


Star Wars: Lost Hope

by sw_losthope



Series: Star Wars AU [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Dark Side!Leia, F/F, M/M, Minor Character Death, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-03
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-03-26 05:38:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 26,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13851222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sw_losthope/pseuds/sw_losthope
Summary: Failure.The Rebel Alliance is on the verge of defeat. Following a daring mission to the Imperial research facility on Scarif, Rogue One managed to capture the plans to the Empire's new and powerful superweapon: the Death Star. Putting the lives of the entire galaxy on the line, Bail Organa entrusted the delivery of those plans to his daughter, Princess Leia Organa.However, the Emperor's apprentice, Darth Vader, tracked the Princess and her ship, apprehending the rebels and confiscating the stolen plans aboard the Tantive IV. With the plans and the Princess in his possession, Darth Vader returned to the Death Star to destroy the Alliance's hope once and for all.The fate of the galaxy and the balance of the Force are irrevocably changed as the Princess of Alderaan learns the true nature of the dark side....





	1. Memories of Aldera

**Author's Note:**

> I’d really like to thank Thais ([@wlwhansolo](https://wlwhansolo.tumblr.com/)) and everyone else who’s giving this a chance; it has been so much fun working on this au, and if you guys enjoy it, I’d be more than happy to give these characters the endings they deserve.
> 
> Chapters will be sporadic, but we’ll try to hammer them out close enough together!
> 
> Thank you all so much again—enjoy chapter 1, and may the Force be with you
> 
> \- Paul/Author ([@mother-cocoon](https://mother-cocoon.tumblr.com/))

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reworked prologue

There was nothing more stunning to Leia than her homeworld of Alderaan.

It had it all: snow capped mountains, lush green valleys, bright blue skies, and crystal clear lakes. Shimmering white cities dotted the planet, intricate and smooth skyscrapers stretched to the heavens. At the very top of one, you could watch the sun rise and fall over the horizon. At the very top of the Royal Palace, nestled in Aldera’s center, there was a balcony overlooking one of Alderaan’s lakes. Leia loved that balcony.

When she was younger, she would sneak out of the numerous meetings, parties, and ceremonies her parents always tried to make her attend. Of course she wanted to be a charismatic speaker like her father and a regal queen like her mother, but when it came down to it, she just wanted to be a kid too. And nothing screams youth louder than running away from a meeting about bilateral trade deals between core and midrim systems.

It was on one of those occasions that Leia found herself resting on the white balcony’s smooth edge. Alderaan’s sun had just begun to set and Lake Aldera reflected the orange light on its glittery surface. The wind blowing her hair smelled just like the open fields in the distance. It was quiet and peaceful and beautiful and… lonely.

She never really thought about it, but things on Alderaan were really lonely.

She never had many friends; not many people had the courage to try and talk to the young heiress to the throne of the _great_ planet of Alderaan. Of course she knew other people, but they were mostly the servants and frequent guests of her parents, not other kids. The only real friend she had was Winter, the daughter of one of Bail Organa’s aides, but Leia’s father had taken Winter to Bothawui for some sort of diplomatic training.

That left Leia to see the beauty of it all by herself--again.

“You know,” Leia nearly jumped off the ledge as she heard her mother’s voice behind her. “I don’t think Senator Erhm’s presentation on Ord Mantell’s tariffs are particularly stimulating, but you don’t see me running away when his back is turned.”

Leia turned and gave the most innocent look she could manage. “I just got lost looking for the bathroom,” she said (a lie).  “There are a ton of rooms and halls and stuff--I get distracted!” (technically not a lie).

Breha Organa let out a laugh, scooping her young daughter into her arms and holding her close to her chest. Leia could feel the gentle beating of her mother’s pulmonodes, devices protecting Breha’s fragile heart from a childhood accident. They were warm.

“You’re going to have to learn to stand these sorts of things, Leia.” She brushed a hand through the young princess’s hair. “You’ll be Queen one day, and it’s not good manners for a queen to run, no matter the situation.”

Leia let her mother speak, even lecturing, Breha’s voice was soothing to hear. She was so mesmerized by the Queen’s tone, she missed the change of topic.

“She’s perfect, isn’t she?” Leia blushed for a second before realizing her mother wasn’t talking about her. Staring straight ahead, Breha’s gaze was fixed on Aldera. Leia could see the dusk light glowing in her mom’s eyes, just like the lake.

“She is,” Leia agreed with a smile.

Breha let out a sigh, Leia could feel so much weight on her mother’s chest, so much weight on her smiles and laughter. It hadn’t always been like that, but lately her mother and father had always been so much more distant and stressed. Despite all the extra parties and events they were always planning, each one seemed to drain Bail and Breha to the point of exhaustion. Family dinners were few, bedtime stories were rare, and having the three of them together in one room for anything other than a gala was nonexistent.

“Mom,” Leia brought her voice to a whisper, “why do you and Dad always have parties if they make you sad?”

Breha didn’t move, but Leia felt her pulmonodes beat faster.

“You’d be happier if you stayed home… I’d be happier…” The young princess felt her heart drop as her mother set her down.

Breha kneeled next to her daughter, and Leia remembered how beautiful her mother was. From her hair bundled intricately, to her violet and gold embroidered gown, to her golden skin and dark brown eyes, Breha was a born queen. A true Organa.

Leia… she was only an Organa by name.

“Leia, my Gingerbell, we were blessed to have a world like Alderaan. Enough food to feed our hungry, enough homes to house our homeless, enough medicine to heal our sick, enough peace to raise our children. In this big galaxy we live in, there are people who don’t have the same fortunes as us.” Breha’s eyes were as serious as her words, and Leia found it hard to blink. “Your father and I have committed ourselves to bringing Alderaan’s peace to the rest of the galaxy, so that your future and the future of every other young girl like you is free.”

“I thought the Empire brought peace to the galaxy.”

Breha paused, the light of Alderaan’s sun passed beyond the horizon, cutting through the balcony’s beams and setting the Queen’s brown eyes ablaze.

“The Empire does,” she struggled, “but peace without freedom, it’s not right, Leia.” The princess felt her face contort as she tried to understand what her mother meant.

“I don’t want you to worry about these things, Leia. Not now, not until you’re much older. I just want you to know that everything your father and I do, it’s not for our happiness, it’s for yours and for those everyone else wants to ignore. When you’re alone and in pain, it’s easy to be forgotten, but when you’re alone and safe, it’s easier to forget.” Breha brought her arms around Leia, and for a moment, she could have sworn she saw tears in her mother’s eyes.

“I’m sorry if I’ve ever hurt you, Leia. I love you--more than this crown or Alderaan or anything in the galaxy. When I look at you, I know there’s hope for a better world than even this.”

Leia didn’t know what to say, but she hugged her mother back.

“I love you too, Mom…”

Breha rose, kissing her daughter’s forehead on the way up. Taking Leia’s hand, mother and daughter--princess and queen--stood side by side and watched the sun finally set over their beloved Aldera, hoping that the sun will rise on a brighter tomorrow.

And as the light faded, Leia felt a spark ignite in her eyes. A spark that burned to protect the hope entrusted to her. A spark passed on by her mother in a way that genes could never. Leia was not an Organa by name, she had inherited the hope of House Organa and vowed to protect it as the Princess of Alderaan.

 

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> SPECIAL SHOUT TO:
> 
> @notmysolo (Io) on tumblr! Thank you SO MUCH for helping us set this acc up We love you, and you're super amazingGG!  
> Check out their ao3 totally_hetero)


	2. Powerless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hey guys, another piece of the rework, here's chapter one of the new edition!

Alderaan took Leia’s breath away, even from a distance. 

As the Death Star slowly turned through space, the blue-green planet came into view. Leia felt a stir of emotions being reunited with her people like this… it shouldn’t have been this way, but as her hand felt the cold pressure of the dense glass, she knew deep down there was nothing she could have done to prevent any of it. She was always doomed to fail.

In the back of her mind, Leia felt as if she could sense the panic and fear of her people as they stared up at the sky towards the strange moon looming overhead. It was like a distant static in her ears, but she heard them--the questions, the screams, the terror. She wanted to comfort them, but what’s the comfort in knowing someone just as scared is looking back at you?

“Welcome home, Princess,” Leia didn’t bother to flinch, she had felt herself being observed from the moment Darth Vader brought her to this place. “Admiring the view? Alderaan is always a pleasure to visit; my own homeworld of Eriadu lacked the fortunes of core world refinement.”

Leia allowed Grand Moff Wilhuff Tarkin to have his moment of revelry. His angular features cut through the reflection of her own face on the clear glass, his eyes sharp and sunken atop steep cheekbones. His skin pallid and wrinkled in all the wrong places. He was just another Imperial puppet of the Emperor, but a dangerous puppet.

Tarkin came closer, his footsteps clear above the low clicking and chatter of ship technicians. “Long before the Old Republic’s development of Eriadu, it was not much more than savage wilderness. Life was chaos. Families clawed and struggled to survive, and while some were strong enough to live on, others fell to the basic instincts of lesser creatures.” Tarkin was directly over her now, and Leia felt her heart pound against her chest.

“It wasn’t until my own family took command of the situation. The Tarkins were ruthless; they spent years understanding their predators, living in the jungles like them, comprehending their flaws and breaking them with their own tactics. They tamed the beasts through force they could understand. They allowed their might to be challenged, and each time crushed the generations that dared to demand a place higher than they deserved,” Tarkin took a short breath, savoring his own words. “Eventually, the opposition was bred out of the wild, and discipline took hold. Through fear and power, primal chaos was forged into law and order--peace.”

Tarkin placed a hand on Leia’s shoulder. “I won’t claim any credit for the work of the dead, but I have learned from their lessons, Princess. You see,” his fingers dug into her dress. “This galaxy is in chaos, and the means to finally control it is within the Empire’s grasp. The hour of our triumph has arrived, and the agents of disorder and rebellion will bear witness to true power--to true fear.”

'Fear,' Leia thought, 'Fear will never be peace. Her ears rang again with the hum of discordant static. She didn’t want to listen to it anymore. She didn’t want to listen to Tarkin anymore.'

“You’re wrong,” the words came out before she could think of more to follow.

Tarkin’s pale lips pursed a thin smile.

“Is that so, Princess?”

'Yes, that’s so.'

“People are not animals, Governor. You can’t control them through force; you will only turn more of the people you claim to protect against you.”

The Moff almost seemed to laugh.

“I’ve never met a being that doesn’t fear its own mortality, Princess. So long as that fear exists, it can be controlled.”

'You’re a monster… '

“No,” Leia shook her head, her face was hot. “The Senate won’t stand for this. When they learn of--”

“I’m afraid the Senate no longer has any authority, Senator.”

Leia broke free of Tarkin’s grip and turned to face him. She couldn’t control the disbelief and anger filling her words.

“What do you mean?”

The Moff crossed his arms behind his back, glaring down in amusement at the disgruntled princess. 

“The Emperor has ordered the disbandment of the Galactic Senate. Regional moffs will take direct control of their sectors’ affairs. The final vestiges of the Old Republic have been eradicated. It is a new age, Princess.”

Leia had to catch herself. Everyone in the Senate knew Palpatine was vying to completely remove the senatorial powers over time, but no one could have guessed he had something like this planned.

As Leia tried to wrap her head around what this all meant, Tarkin turned his head to address an approaching stormtrooper.

“Governor,” the trooper’s voice was amplified through his white helmet. “The Queen and Viceroy have been apprehended in the Royal Palace and are en route to the station.”

“No!” Leia shouted, “Please, my mother and father--they had nothing to do with this, I swear!”

Tarkin’s head shifted, his steel blue eyes hawkish in their intensity. “I’m afraid the word of a rebel traitor is of no value to me, Princess. Unless you have any information that you would like to provide for the right cause.”

'I can’t betray the Rebellion, but if I don’t say anything then Mother and Father--'

“Well, Princess?” Tarkin’s words hung in the air, and it was only for a moment but to Leia it felt like a lifetime. Her mind raced to find some combination of words that would save her parents and the Rebellion, but nothing came to her. She couldn’t say anything to stop what was going to happen. She just looked at Tarkin, opening her mouth and refusing to waste any more words to save a life already doomed--her own.

“I’m the one responsible for the attack on Scarif, Governor,” Leia’s voice was resolute. “I coordinated the assault and organized the recovery of the Death Star’s plans. I, Leia Organa of Alderaan, am the only one guilty of this transgression against the Empire.”

The viewing gallery was silent. The clicking of the technicians died to intermittent taps, while the drum of the station’s ventilation system dropped to a hum. Leia stretched her breaths as it became harder to breathe--she had only been under scrutiny from Tarkin a few times before, but never like this. Never with so much at stake.

Tarkin placed a cold hand against the side of Leia’s face, resting it against her cheek and moving a finger through the loose strands of her brown hair. “I don’t doubt your culpability, Princess. I’m sure the Emperor will appreciate such a confession so as to avoid the lengthy tribulations of the judicial process for someone of your esteem; however,” his smile faded. “If you expect me to believe a girl who can’t even stop herself from crying is the mastermind behind this pitiful Rebellion, then Bail Organa was a fool of a father and a traitor.” 

Tarkin brushed a tear Leia hadn’t even realize she’d shed, but she had a good reason not to.

She had snapped.

“My father is a greater man than you will ever be, you monster. He taught me to believe in something greater than the evils and corruption of your Empire. You, your Emperor, Darth Vader, and your army of stormtroopers are rotting from the inside, and you can’t help it. The very weapons you build to put fear into the hearts of those wishing to be free will only be turned against you as symbols of injustice. The Galactic Empire will fall, and it’s because of men like my father that there’s hope for a better galaxy when it does.”  
Leia couldn’t keep it in anymore, and it felt good to get it out. She let her anger and fear pool into words--damning words--but words nonetheless.

“There’s that rebel fire you traitors are so fond of. I was beginning to doubt Organa raised you, but you do indeed share his passion,” Tarkin waved his hand. “And his fate.”  
Before Leia could protest, the nearest stormtrooper grabbed the princess by her arms and began dragging her away. 

“Interesting thing about rebels, Princess,” the Moff mused, “You’re like vermin: when one is found, there is sure to be a nest of a dozen more nearby. Or in this case,” Tarkin turned to the viewport and Leia followed his eyes to her homeworld. “Two billion more.”

Leia wanted to yell out, to do something, but she had no control over the situation. She took one last look at her home, and in the glass, could see the reflection of terror in her own eyes. 

Tarkin watched it all. 

When the doors slid shut, he turned to face Alderaan once more, crossing his arms over his chest, and placing a hand slightly above his chin. He studied the planet and all its features as it continued along its shadowed rotation. He savored the sight, knowing he’d be one of the last in the galaxy to see it.

A world, wild and untamed, in a galaxy just the same.

“Governor,” a grey suited technician called from behind him, “the station is ready to fire, sir.”

The Grand Moff’s eyes glinted with sadistic anticipation. “Set for standby and be ready to fire on my orders.”

“Yes, sir.”

The technician moved back to his work, and Tarkin returned to his approaching victory.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“What is the meaning of this transmission, Lord Vader?” The drawling voice of Emperor Palpatine echoed in Darth Vader’s private chambers. Vader lowered himself to one knee and informed his master.

“I have captured the rebel traitor Leia Organa along with the plans stolen from Scarif,” Vader spoke, his low voice filled with reverence as he tried to please his master, “An astromech and protocol droid accompanying her were also taken into custody. Intelligence believes they are the property of Bail Organa, and are searching their data records for details concerning the hidden rebel base.”

A smile filled the face of the hooded hologram. “Good,” The Emperor’s eyes were far away, “very good. With the location of the rebel base, we will be able to eradicate them and they will be powerless to stop us.” 

He took a deep breath before speaking again.

“There has been a great divergence in the Force, have you felt it?”

“Yes, master.” Vader responded. Capturing the princess along with the plans had brought a great sense of finality to everything; there would be no more opposition, no more uprisings, no more rebellion--not after the galaxy experiences the power of the Death Star.

“You have done well, my apprentice. Tell Governor Tarkin that he may do as he pleases with the planet Alderaan, and once we have the location of the rebel base, he is to crush them once and for all.”

“Yes, master.”

“Vader,” The Emperor’s eyes focused on his black clad apprentice. Though the hologram was blue, Vader felt he could see the yellow tint of his master’s eyes burning into him, “Return to Coruscant after our triumph. There is much work to be done, old friend.”

“Yes, my master.”

The hologram cut off, and Vader rose. Without the hum of the Emperor’s image, the room was silent, save for the rhythmic breathing emanating from the sith. Stepping from the chamber, Darth Vader made his way to the viewing gallery of the Death Star to deliver his master’s will to the Grand Moff.

Passing through the polished halls of the Death Star, Vader noticed the workers avoiding his presence. His heavy footsteps and breathing most likely tipped the officers off, and they made themselves scarce for their own longevity. The constant aversion Vader felt from the personnelle didn’t bother him in the slightest, because their fear fueled the stock of dark side power he drew from the station. Even away from the outer layers of the Death Star, Vader could feel the fear of not just his own men, but of the entirety of Alderaan.  
As stepped in and closed the door to a turbolift, he was stopped by the sound of a woman’s voice.

“Excuse me, Lord Vader, sir!” The Dark Lord allowed the woman to stumble through the almost shut doors, out of breath. While the officer caught her breath, Vader keyed in the level for Tarkin’s viewing gallery. The lift lurched upwards and he turned his attention to the officer.

“What is the meaning of this, Lieutenant?” Vader demanded.

The officer stood up straight, slightly coughing. Her light brown skin seemed to glow against the dull grey of her uniform. She saluted before reaching into her pocket and retrieving a datapad and handing it over. 

“Results from Data & Recovery, sir. It seems the Princess planned to put the stolen data into the R2 astromech but was unsuccessful. The R2 unit and the protocol droid both are suffering from damage as a result of blaster fire.”

“So, the Princess tried to destroy the droids to prevent us from obtaining their memory.”

“It would seem that way, sir. However, our team has restored some of the data within their memory, though most of it will either be lost to corruption or take a significant amount of time to restore.”

Vader looked up from the datapad and raised his arm to point at the officer. “I want that information, Lieutenant, without delay.”

Her eyes crossed looking at the dark lord’s finger, and Vader could see her shaking. She cleared her throat before speaking again.

“Yes, Lord Vader. It’s just… the damage--”

The officer was cut off by a gag emanating from her own throat. She brought her hands to her neck and her eyes widened in terror, falling to her knees as she pleaded in silence with the invisible force around her throat. Just as the lift stopped, the pressure released, and the lieutenant gasped and choked, rushing to fill her lungs with air.  
Darth Vader stepped out of the lift and stopped just outside the doors. 

“Understand you will be held personally responsible for Data & Recovery’s failure, Lieutenant Yuska.” With that, the doors sealed shut, and Yuska allowed herself to take an uncertain breath of air.

Entering the gallery, Darth Vader noticed the line of six stormtroopers against the far wall. They stood at rigid attention, and Vader could sense them become even more tense as he stepped into the room. On the opposite end, Tarkin stood in front of the large viewport; the Grand Moff was looking out at the distant planet of Alderaan before him.  
“Governor Tarkin,” Vader addressed the Moff, stopping a few paces behind him.

“Ah, Lord Vader,” Tarkin’s expression didn’t change as he turned to face the Sith, he lowered his hand, clasping them behind his back. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”  
Vader gave the Moff the datapad Lieutenant Yuska had provided.

Tarkin studied the information closely, his expression stolid. He spoke as his eyes moved back and forth through the text, “So the rebel base is on the fourth moon of the planet Yavin, and it appears our Chandrilan senator Mon Mothma is at the head of it all. Was this all the information we could obtain?”

“The Princess destroyed the droids and corrupted most of their data, it will take time to uncover any more.”

Tarkin frowned.

“A pity, but no matter. With the rebel base located and hard evidence implicating Mothma of treason, we may continue to act with impunity. Without the Death Star’s plans, there will be no ham-fisted resistance. The Rebellion will be powerless to stop us.”

Vader didn’t have time for the Moff’s gloating.

“The Emperor requests that you deal with the base immediately.”

The Moff looked up and lowered the data pad. “And I shall. Once Bail and Breha Organa are brought to me, the the Death Star will be deal with the Rebellion once and for all.”  
“I suggest you hurry, Governor,” Vader warned, “the Emperor would be most displeased if the rebels were allowed to escape due to your fascination with toys.”  
Tarkin smiled.

“Have you seen the Death Star in action, Lord Vader?”

The Dark Lord remained silent, peering at the Moff through his mask.

“I see. Then you have yet to witness the true extent of the Empire’s might.”

“The true extent of the Empire’s might, Governor,” Vader pointed a black finger at the Moff. “Is the Force. The power to destroy worlds is insignificant to the power of the dark side.”

Tarkin’s smile wavered, but not completely. “Perhaps I could offer you a demonstration. I have seen your force, allow me to show you mine.”

Darth Vader was silent save for his breathing. His finger lowered, but his dark gaze was still pointed very sharply at Tarkin.

“Up in the recreation office,” Tarkin gestured to the window above the far wall, a window Vader wouldn’t have even noticed without the Moff’s indication. “From there you will be able to see the show. I assure you it will be well worth the wait. The sight is truly… breathtaking.” His smile widened as he turned back to face Alderaan.

“And I do hope you don’t mind the company, Lord Vader.”

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Leia had seen Darth Vader before while she worked in the Imperial Senate. The black cloaked figure towered over Emperor Palpatine on his podium. He was a glorified bodyguard like the Emperor’s royal guards, but royal guards don’t kill a dozen soldiers single handedly. Vader had done just that before boarding the Tantive IV--before capturing her--before capturing the Rebellion’s hope.

And here he was again. 

Leia had seen the Dark Lord leave the viewing gallery after meeting with the Grand Moff. 

'Where was he going now? Did Tarkin send him to question Mother and Father? To Torture them?'

She didn’t want to think about it happening, and, for better or worse, she didn’t have to.

Darth Vader stepped through the office doors, his heavy breathing immediately filling the recreation room Tarkin had left her in. She rose from the table she’d sat down at, glaring at Vader as he made his way towards her. 

Leia froze as the Dark Lord neared, she couldn’t stop herself from being scared, but she didn’t have to show it. Her expression was hard and defiant, but when Vader passed her unbothered, she softened to confusion.

'Why?' She wracked the options. 'Why is he here?'

Leia hesitated. She wasn’t entirely sure what the meaning of intimidating her was; truth be told, the Empire had gotten everything they could want from her. She had been caught red handed with no one knowing where she was, her life was forfeit.

Regaining her composure and swallowing her fear, Leia stood tall. The stun cuffs she wore hurt her wrists, but that was the last thing she was worried about at the moment.  
“My parents,” she managed, “what does Tarkin plan on doing to them?”

Vader didn’t respond, his breathing unperturbed.

“The Governor mentioned bringing my parents aboard this place,” Leia continued, “Does he plan on questioning them? They don’t know anything. They’re innocent. I told Governor Tarkin that I did this alone, you shouldn’t punish my family for--”

“Do not presume to tell me what I should or should not do, Princess,” Vader’s voice was just as heavy and menacing as it had been aboard the Tantive IV, “You would do well to mind your place as our prisoner. The Empire’s hospitality does not run deep for traitors.”

Leia stopped speaking. Her plea had failed, and once again, she realized just how powerless she truly was to stop anything. She had been given one mission--one goal--and she had failed; when her father needed her most, he placed the fate of the galaxy in her hands, and she had allowed the Empire to wrest it from her. Now, her life, and the lives of trillions, were no better than dead.

There was a change in atmosphere as a click sounded over the room’s speakers. A low hum of a wind current and background typing filled the ambience of the office. The noise even covered most of Vader’s breathing. As another beep sounded in the room and the familiar footsteps of stormtrooper boots hit her ears, Leia realized too late what was happening.

Rushing to the Dark Lord’s side, Leia stared out at the viewing gallery and felt her heart catch in her throat as she tried to choke out some word that would make this reality go away. All that came out was…

“No…”

“Queen Breha and Viceroy Bail Organa of Alderaan,” The Moff’s voice sounded as if it were right behind Leia, it made her skin crawl.“So good of you both to join me in the Empire’s hour of triumph.” 

Bail and Breha Organa shared an unreadable look with one another. The slick, silver half cape Leia’s father wore over his grey suit, along with the simple pale violet of her mother’s gown, gave the impression that Tarkin had snatched them from their home.

“Governor,” Bail’s voice was filled with the passion and indignation he usually reserved for the privacy of family dinners. “What is the meaning of this? What is this thing you’ve brought us to?” His eyes blazed as he gestured at the station around them.

“This is the solution to the pitiful Rebellion you, your wife, and a handful of other extremists have gone through the trouble of creating.” Leia could see her father’s face grow a shade paler.

“I don’t--”

“Do not play coy with me, Viceroy,” Tarkin snapped, “Your daughter told us enough before my patience with her grew thin.”

“What have you done to my Leia?” Breha moved past Bail to stand in Tarkin’s face. “Where is our daughter, Governor?” Her voice was a blend of fear, anger, and something ...deeper.

“Your daughter, just like the rest of your rebel friends will soon be, is dead.” 

Breha took a step back, her anger gave way to the haunting reality of the Moff’s words. Bail caught her, a similar anguish played in his eyes but his tone was steel.

“We demand that you bring us our daughter this instant,” Bail insisted, “we have been loyal servants to the Empire, with nothing but good works to our name. I am a member of the Imperial Senate, Tarkin, and I demand that you bring me our daughter.” His voice seemed to catch in his throat as he finished.

Tarkin eyed Bail for a moment. “I'm afraid with the dissolution of the Senate, you have no sway here, Senator. And,” he gestured to the viewport, Bail and Breha’s eyes focused on their homeworld. “With the destruction of Alderaan, neither will you, your Grace.”

Wild confusion filled Breha’s eyes. “What do you--”

“Fire on Aldera.” Tarkin commanded into his comlink.

A loud, high pitched ringing flooded Leia’s ears as she felt the station shake. A bright emerald beam shot outwards, directly at Aldera. With a burst of light, the region of the planet where the beam hit seemed to explode, rising like a dark cloud into the atmosphere. The fear Leia had felt tingling in the back of her mind cut off, as if she had suddenly lost her connection.

“Cities can be replaced,” the Moff’s voice resonated in the now complete silence, “I'm afraid worlds cannot.” 

Bail and Breha stood quietly where they were. Stepping from Bail’s arms, the Queen of Alderaan placed her hands against the window. “Aldera,” her voice was as distant as it had been on those evenings so long ago. “What have you done?”

“The rebel base, your Grace,” Tarkin ignored her question, “What is its location?”

No one said anything. Tarkin moved to stand next to Breha, his hands still clasped behind his back. The area where Aldera used to be was now nothing more than a plume of debris stretching upwards, seemingly reaching out for help.

“You're a monster,” Breha finally said, “I've known long before this but being able to say it…” the words were the only comfort the Queen could feel. Leia wanted to be there with her mother, but Tarkin’s sick plan was to strip her Grace of everything she held dear. First her daughter, now Aldera, next…

“Target the planet,” The Moff spoke into his comlink.

“No!” Bail shouted, stepping forward. His heart cried out for his people as much as Breha, but he couldn't bare to let the torment she was undergoing continue. “We'll tell you, just...please, let our people live.”

“Bail,” Breha’s voice was hollow. “Don't.”

“I must, it's the only way.”

“You can't lose hope,” tears fell from her eyes, but she was not broken. “Fear will not hold my people hostage. If you try to break us, to withhold the freedoms and liberties we have been entitled, then you will only destroy yourselves. I am Breha Organa, Queen of Alderaan, and this power you have, Governor? It cannot intimidate me.”

The Grand Moff didn't speak. He instead motioned to the line of stormtroopers behind him. Bail and Breha were grabbed and put on their knees, facing towards the sight of their beloved planet. In the middle of that view, was the figure of the one man who controlled the fate of billions.

Tarkin glared down at Leia's parents, his eyes glancing up for a moment to the window where she and Darth Vader were. If he couldn't get his pleasure from torturing her parents, then he'd get it from torturing Leia.

“Fire when ready.”

It wasn't slow. In fact, when it happened, Leia could have sworn she had only blinked. One second, Alderaan was there, and then it wasn't. If it hadn't been for the yelling of her father or the gnawing emptiness in her heart, she could’ve been having a bad dream. An awful, evil dream.

Bail’s shouting had turned to sobs, he had lost his composure and was being held up by two stormtroopers. Tarkin made him powerless to even grieve properly.  
Breha, however, was silent.

“Nothing to say, your Grace?” Tarkin toyed. “No words of inspiration? Where is your hope now? Where is your rebellion? You've lost.” looking down at her, he gave a slight nod, and the sound of a blaster shot burned in Leia’s ears.

The yelling stopped. The crying. Everything. 

All that sounded was the soft thud of Breha’s body hitting the cold station floor, a thin trail of smoke rising from the hole in her chest.

“Hope,” Breha whispered, her eyes finding their way up to the window where Leia was watching. 

Leia couldn't even tell if her mother saw her, if she felt Leia’s presence at all--if she knew that Tarkin had not taken everything. 

“... Is never lost.” The Queen of Alderaan let out a soft breath of air, and the glow of her pulmonodes went dark. Even from the above, Leia could see the light in her mother’s brown eyes--those beautiful brown eyes--vanish. 

Bail Organa’s pain rendered him mute. He rocked in place; his mouth and face were contorted in anguish, his voice failing to articulate a semblance of what he was feeling. Tarkin stood over him next. 

“The last of the Organa’s. A truly lonely existence, isn't it, Viceroy?” He turned back to the viewport; with Alderaan gone, it was nothing more than a dark canvas of scattered debris and starlight. “Trooper, you may fi--”

The Moff coughed.

He swallowed hard, but something was caught in his throat. Trying to speak, the Imperial found himself struggling for air. His hands rushed to his neck to fight the feeling as if something invisible were choking him.

“Va...der,” Tarkin spat out as he turned to look up at the office window, his eyes aflame with a dark fury. He stumbled back slightly, and rested against the dark viewscreen. Tarkin let out one last guttural inhalation before collapsing onto the floor. 

The stormtroopers looked at one another, confused, wondering what to do. With a click, the audio in the office cut off, and Leia watched a group of them check the Grand Moff’s body only to find that he was indeed dead. 

She let her eyes close. Hot tears ran down her cheeks as the ache of powerlessness died down. She let everything in the world slip away, save for the sound of punctuated breathing, and the weight of a heavy hand around her heart.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We start on a lonely, deserted planet ...

The twin suns of Tatooine beat down hard on the old hermit as he made the trek back to his domed burrow. The rugged russet steeps jutting upwards from the arid Dune Sea were the only relief from the cascades of endless pale sand. Entering his home, the hermit set down the two water jugs he had been carrying, and slowly rested himself on his bed.

A cold shock went through him; an instance of fear, confusion, and loneliness--voices of millions crying out before...nothing. As soon as the feeling came, it had passed, but a darkness lingered.

_Do you feel it, Obi Wan?_

“Yes,” The aged jedi answered, lowering his hood. Obi Wan Kenobi let out a pained sigh, “The Force. Vader and the Emperor…they’ve done something terrible.”

The voice of Obi Wan’s past master seemed to pause before responding. Finally, Qui-Gon Jinn continued.

_Alderaan, it’s gone._

“How?” Kenobi asked solemnly, his eyes closed in concentration as his thoughts travelled to the past.

_A weapon...With the power to tear worlds apart in an instance._

Obi Wan took that in for a moment. His face contorted as he reached out with the Force to find--

_Leia._

Qui-Gon’s voice confirmed what his old padawan had been dreading. The first of the Skywalker twins had been captured by the Emperor.

_She has been lost to the dark side of the Force._

“Does that mean it’s time?”

_Yes…_

A soft breeze seemed to rise from nowhere, warming Obi Wan with memories of standing in his maverick master’s presence. Jinn’s voice seemed to echo quietly before it was nothing more than a whisper in Kenobi’s ears.

_You must train Luke as you did his father. Be patient with him, Obi Wan...He will help bring balance to the Force._

“I will try, master.”

_Do or do not, Obi Wan...There is no try…_

With that, the last of the voice’s warmth faded, and Obi Wan felt the cold tendrils of the dark side permeating through the Force again.

_Can I do it, master?_  Obi Wan asked himself. He had failed Qui-Gon once before with Anakin. He had underestimated the turmoil in his young apprentice. He had abandoned him to defeat the Separatists at such a pivotal moment in Skywalker’s life, and the gnawing fear that if he had just been there for Anakin, then the Jedi Order would still exist. So would the Republic...so would Alderaan…

So would Anakin.

Had Obi Wan not taken the mission to Utapau, he could have given Anakin the guidance he needed to resist the temptations of the dark side.

Or maybe he wouldn’t have. Maybe Anakin still would have turned into Darth Vader, and Obi Wan would have died along with the rest of the Jedi during the purge. Maybe Luke and Leia would have fallen into Darth Sidious’s hands just like they all did.

Obi Wan pushed the thoughts from his mind; there was no use dwelling on the mistakes and possibilities of the past. All that remained now was Luke--with Leia in the Empire’s clutches-- _he_  was the last hope the galaxy had to stop the Emperor and Darth Vader. Luke Skywalker, son of Anakin Skywalker and Padmé Amidala, was the only hope Obi Wan had of saving his fallen apprentice.

Pulling his hood over him again, gathering the remaining credits he had been saving, and placing two lightsabers beneath his brown robes, the old Jedi master made his way from his burrow, and to the home of Owen and Beru Lars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comment/kudos are appreciated!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the baby boy!! He finally gets his power converters.

Luke hadn’t been expecting any visitors--least of all the old hermit his uncle had told him to stay away from--but as he settled the airspeeder to a rest and pulled the power converters from the seat next to him, he noticed Ben Kenobi and his aunt and uncle making their way out of the burrow.

“Uncle Owen! I swung by the Tosche Station and got those power converters like you wanted!” Luke hefted the cells into his arms and lugged the batteries over to the group. As he got closer, he noticed the grim expression on his uncle’s face, and his aunt wiping her eyes.

“What’s wrong?” Luke asked, still cradling the converters.

“Nothing,” Lars answered gruffly. “We were just showing Ben here the way out.”

“But it’s almost nightfall, isn’t it dangerous for him to go out by himself?” Luke didn’t know the hermit well but he knew he wasn’t okay with someone getting ambushed by a pack of tuskens. “Shouldn’t he stay the night?”

Lars tried to say no, but Beru cut him off.

“Luke is right, dear,” She turned to the old man and gestured back down. “Please excuse us, it seems we lost track of time. Thank goodness for Luke.”

“Thank goodness indeed.” The hermit gave Luke a slight nod before turning away. Luke watched Ben walk back in, his aunt following after. Owen stood where he was, a look of frustration and worry angling his face.

“I’m going to set these down in the garage,” Luke told his uncle, moving past him as the weight of the converters began to strain his back. He stopped as Lars placed a hand on his shoulder and turned his nephew to face him.

Owen looked into Luke’s eyes for a long time. An unmistakable tone of desperation and irritation tinted his voice, Luke hadn’t seen his uncle this upset since the tusken raid that took out one of the vaporators a few months back. “You’re a farmer, Luke. Whatever that old kook downstairs tries to feed you, don’t buy into it. Your father wanted you to be safe with us, and I’m not about to let some balding wizard spit in the face of your father’s wishes.”

Lars held his nephew there for a moment longer before letting out a sigh. “Go set down those converters, we’ll deal with ‘em in the morning... _together_.” With a quick pat on Luke’s back, Owen headed down the stairs, leaving Skywalker to wonder just what was going on.   
  


\----

 

It took Luke about ten minutes to heave the power converters down to the garage, but he gave himself a good twenty to catch his breath and let all his sweat dry up. While he dried off, Luke took a seat on the red R5 unit he and his uncle had bought a day or so ago. A restraining bolt kept it from moving and making noise, so Luke filled the silence himself.

“What had all that been about up there, do you think?” Luke asked the nonresponsive droid. “I’m not as blind as a mynock, I can tell something’s happening.” He stood up and ran his hands through his blonde hair, shaking his head in frustration.

He let out a long groan. “And what had all that stuff been about my dad? Do you think Old Ben knows something about him?” He sat down cross-legged next to the droid, his hair ruffled and matted with sweat.

Resting his head against the red astromech, Luke cooled the left side of his face on the cold metal. “I saw Biggs earlier...Biggs Darklighter, do you know him?”

No response.

“Yeah, well,” Luke answered himself. “You will soon. Wanna know why?” His voice turned to a whisper as he peaked around the room as if someone would be listening in. “He’s leaving the Academy to go to Bestine and join the  _Rebellion_.”

A huge grin crossed Luke’s face as he said the last word. “The Rebellion! It’s crazy, right?” Unable to stay still with his sudden surge of energy, Luke stood up. “I told him that it sounded crazy and that it’ll probably be a longshot if he ever comes across them, but I know he will…”

Luke’s voice grew soft.

“If anyone can find the Rebels...it’s Biggs. He can do anything; he’s almost as good a pilot as me.” His smile dropped as he sat in front of the restrained astromech. Thinking about his childhood friend going off to fight in a war seemed bigger than anything Luke had ever imagined on Tatooine. His best friend gone amongst the stars Luke could only dream of getting to. The thought of Biggs getting shot at, or captured, or worse...

“I know you can’t hear me, but,” His voice was barely audible as he pressed his forehead against the droid and closed his eyes. “I’m gonna be right behind you, Darklighter. Don’t get yourself killed before I find you. Uncle Owen won’t keep me past this season, and when I get to the Academy...I’m going to catch up to you in no time, I prom--”

“Luke!” Aunt Beru’s call broke the farmboy’s train of thought, and he stood alert as if he had been caught trying to steal a scavenger’s ration portions. “Luke, come up for dinner!”

Realizing he hadn’t been overheard, Luke let out a long sigh. Placing his hand on the droid’s circular head, Luke gazed at his reflection on the dusty metal. “I’ll get that bolt off, Red. Don’t worry, I won’t forget about you--that’s a promise.”

With that, Luke made his way up the steps, turning off the lights in the garage. In the quiet darkness of the repair station, R5-D4 let out a low whirr of gratitude before powering down.

 

\----  
  


Dinner was uncomfortably silent. Luke was the only one really looking up from his food, so he was the only one who could see the furtive looks being traded between his aunt and uncle. The back and forth seemed to play like an argument, and as Aunt Beru let out a long breath, Luke could tell his uncle had won.

Aunt Beru rose, her plate almost completely untouched. “Let me clear the table.” She gathered her plate and Uncle Owen’s, making her way over to Luke’s. Just as she reached out to take Luke’s plate, Beru let out a panicked shout. She had tripped, and the two full plates of food she had been carrying fell out of her hands and towards Luke.

Skywalker flinched and closed his eyes, bracing for the impact.

It never came.

Opening his eyes, Luke saw the two plates and their contents a few inches from his face...floating in midair. His mouth dropped in utter amazement, and he turned his head to see if everyone else could see what was happening. It turns out they did, and Uncle Owen looked even more furious than ever.

“I said none of your magic in my house, Jedi!” Owen shouted, he stood up and slammed his hand on the table.

“Jedi?” Luke said dimly, looking at Old Ben who had his hand outstretched towards the floating plates. With a wave of his hand, the plates moved through the air and sat on the table, their contents following suit, only a little worse for wear.

“I want you out of my home this instant!” Owen hollered. “You’re not taking Luke, so get it through that rancor-thick head of yours. You hear me?”

Ben opened his eyes and stood, his voice calm. “Forgive me, Lars, but that decision is Luke’s.”

Owen took a step towards the old man, standing in his face.

“I said he ain’t going anywhere. I’m not gonna let you get  _my_  nephew caught up in some crazy space war, so you’d best be making your way home--you’ll have about an hour before nightfall.”

Ben stood his ground, his expression not changing as his eyes went from Owen to Luke then back to Owen. “As you wish.”

The old hermit put his hood on as he moved past Lars towards the door.

“Wait!” He turned at the sound of Luke’s voice. “You’re a Jedi?”

The old man smiled, a small one. “I am.”

“Did you fight in the Clone Wars?” Luke asked, his eyes lighting up.

“Luke--” His uncle tried to growl, but Ben cut him off.

“I was a general in the war.” The old man said, lowering his hood again. “Just like your father.”

A gasp came from Beru as she covered her mouth. Lars gave the old Jedi a dark glare.

“But,” Luke was the only one who wasn’t silent. “My father wasn’t a Jedi….He was a navigator on a spice freighter…” He looked to his aunt and uncle, both of whom didn’t look him in the eye. “Right?”

“That’s right.” Owen snarled. “Your father was a navigator and he  _died_  a navigator.”

“Your father,” Ben said plainly, seemingly ignoring the animosity in Lars’ voice. “Was a Jedi Knight, Luke. One of the greatest, and my closest friend.”

“Is that true?” Luke asked incredulously. No one responded. “Is that true?” He demanded, standing up.

“Yes…” Beru choked out from behind her hand.

“Berry!” Owen snapped.

“No, Owen….He deserves to know.” She wasn’t going to give this time. Beru put a hand on Luke’s shoulder and he turned to face her. His eyes were full of disbelief.

“Luke...Your father  _was_  a Jedi, but he died fighting in the war--a war just like the one going on now.  _All_ the Jedi died, because they were reckless. We tried to keep you from that life because only pain exists for people like that. Please, you have to believe us, Luke.”

Skywalker stepped back from her, looking back and forth between his aunt and uncle. “How could you all keep that from me?” Tears formed as his voice got more and more upset. “You’ve been lying to me about my life since the beginning...and if it weren’t for Ben, you guys probably wouldn’t have even bothered telling me the truth, would you?”

Luke glared at his uncle. “And you probably would have kept me here as a farm hand for the rest of my life. No Academy or piloting for me, just,” He gestured around himself. “Vaporators and sand. Is that what you wanted?”

“We wanted to keep you safe, Luke.” Beru pleaded. “It was the only way, please--”

“Just stop!” Luke yelled. Everyone was looking at him. His breathing was heavy and his face was hot. “Stop  _lying_.”

A hush fell over the room, as the young Skywalker caught his breath. He looked up, his gaze going directly for Ben. “My father,” Luke asked quietly. “If he was a Jedi, could I be one too?”

Owen and Beru both looked at one another as the old hermit spoke.

“You could be an even greater Jedi than your father, Luke.” Ben took a step back into the room. “But it is not a choice to be made out of anger or betrayal.” Skywalker’s eyes dropped slightly.

“Being a Jedi, Luke, is about compassion.” A warmth seemed to permeate the room as the white-haired hermit spoke. “It’s about forgiveness. The first steps will be hard, but you must face them if you ever hope of becoming a Jedi.”

Ben turned and walked up the steps leaving Skywalker with his aunt and uncle. For a while, no one said a word. The calm the Jedi had brought when he spoke had faded and all that was left was the anger and tension.

Luke went first.

“I’m going to become a Jedi like my father.” He declared, Owen didn’t look at him.

“Uncle, I...I think I understand why you’d lie to me, but I need to follow my own path. Staying on the farm my whole life? I can’t do that….All of my friends are gone,  _Biggs_ is gone. Everyone’s growing up and making something of themselves and seeing the galaxy, and I--I just don’t want to be left behind.”

“Luke,” His uncle responded, his blue eyes finally meeting Luke’s. “Not this way.” He shook his head slightly, “I promise, the end of this season, I’ll take you to the Academy--you can sign up, you can be with your friends, just…” His voice cracked, “Don’t go like this, not with him.”

They held one another in that moment for a long time, but after taking a shaky breath and wiping his eyes, Luke came to his decision.

“I’m sorry, Uncle. I love you,” He looked to his aunt. “Both of you. Thank you for everything. For taking care of me; raising me, keeping me safe, teaching me to pilot and cook and look out for myself. Thank you...but if I don’t go now,” His voice trailed off and he looked back to his uncle who was silently pleading with him. “I don’t think I ever will.”

Walking to the door, Luke placed a hand on the frame and turned back to his family.

“I’ll come back,” He managed. “I promise.”

With that, Luke Skywalker made his way out of the dining room--out of the burrow he called home--towards the old Jedi and the future that was now ahead of him.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ben and Luke search for a ship ...

Luke had heard stories from Biggs and Uncle Owen about the Mos Eisley cantina, but seeing it in person was beyond overwhelming. A band of biths played a jaunty tune that hardly eased any of the tension the young farm boy felt amidst the seedier patrons of the galaxy. A plethora of alien species dotted every dark corner of the bar, most wearing hoods like Luke to obscure their faces as they discussed business dealings or gossiped about underworld affairs. It was a haven for smugglers, bounty hunters, thieves, and just about any other criminal. Luke felt unnerved knowing he and Ben had garnered the attention of just about everyone there.

“Be careful, Luke.” Ben cautioned. “We’re only looking for a pilot, not trouble.” Luke nodded in understanding, he definitely didn’t want to start anything with anyone here. Taking a seat at the bar counter, the farm boy felt more out of place than ever.

The two sat there for a while. Despite the unsavory looks being thrown by everyone else in the room, the cantina banter seemed to be drawing the attention of the barkeep away from the two conspicuous humans. It wasn’t until Obi Wan set down a respectable stack of credit chips that the eyes of the bartender came to the hermit, the rest of him following a second later.

“What can I get ya?” He barked with a raspy tone of impatience. Luke noticed that the man looked markedly worn down, a bit scruffy, fresh cuts on the edges of his wispy beard. He assuredly wasn’t the easiest bartender to look at on Tatooine.

Obi Wan pushed the stack of chips closer to the man, always keeping his hand on top. “I happen to be looking for transportation off world, friend.”

The bartender turned his nose up at the words. “I ain’t your friend, and people don’t  _drink_  transportation, so I ain’t sellin’ it.”

“Perhaps I could--”

“Perhaps nothin’.” The barkeep cut the hermit off with a definite tone of finality.

With a smile, Ben waved his hand in a delicate motion, speaking with a flair of confidence.

“You’d rather take the money and tell me what I want.”

Luke took a worried glance at the old man.

From the farm boy’s perspective, it sounded as if Ben had told the bartender what to do, and if what Luke knew about Mos Eisley types had an ounce of truth to it, then the barkeep wouldn’t take too kindly to being bossed around. Skywalker felt himself get on edge and braced for some sort of confrontation when--

“I’d rather take the money and tell you what you want…” The barkeep repeated. His voice sounded placated, the roughness in his face relaxed and his eyes seemed to slip into some sort of trance. “The only ship headin’ off world is Solo’s…”

Ben didn’t bother to acknowledge Luke’s open mouthed amazement. “And where can I find this Solo?”

The barkeep seemed to have a moment of clarity as he let out a short snarky laugh before slipping back into the trance.

“Probably dead and in the ground,” The man provided with mild amusement. “Jabba’s men’ll have that bantha fodder dead for wasting that rodian in my bar. He’s probably being turned into a scorch-mark as we speak, him and his wookie pal.” He pointed with his thumb to one of the spots where patrons could sit; only one was empty, and it was the only one with what looked like a blood stain on the table...and a small black blaster mark on the wall. “Greedo never had a shot.”

“You will tell me where I can find Solo.” Ben spoke imperatively this time, Luke noticed that the bartender had been slowly getting more agitated; the power the hermit was using must’ve been wearing off.

The barkeep’s eyes glazed over again at Obi Wan’s behest.

“Docking bay...94.” With that, Ben slid the credits over to the bartender and got up from his stool. The man shook his head as if he had just come down from a bad headache, pocketed the chips, and moved away to take a less confusing customer’s order.

“Come along, Luke.” Ben said, making his way out of the cantina. Luke let out a sigh of relief, he didn’t like feeling the pressure of so many eyes on him. The sordid crowd made his skin crawl, but Obi Wan seemed unfazed. Luke hoped that maybe when he was a Jedi, he’d have Ben’s courage.

They walked in silence for a few minutes, but halfway to the docking bay, Luke couldn’t hold his curiosity in any longer.

“What was that power you used?” He beamed, his voice bubbly. “Was that some sort of Jedi magic like back at the burrow?” Luke’s eyes were bright with enthusiasm and Ben couldn’t help but laugh.

“Is it too hard to believe I did it without some sort of  _magic_?” He smiled. “I was known as ‘The Negotiator’ back in my prime!”

The winds picked up and a wave of sand interrupted Luke before he could get a response out. The loose layers Luke wore kept the sand out of his eyes and mouth, but the grains still buffeted his cheeks.Waiting for the winds to die down, they passed through the marketplaces lining Mos Eisley, each one filled with aliens and off world items. Luke could never afford much more than the food and appliances Uncle Owen would let him buy, so he never gave the market much attention. But after passing through with Ben, everything seemed to have so much more color and detail.

As the wind quieted to nothing more than a soft whistle, Luke finally spoke.

“Yeah, but that thing you did,” He had been replaying the events over and over in his mind as they walked. “You told him what to say and he did it...He looked as if he were in some like--like you were messing with his mind.”

Luke pulled his cover tighter over his mouth, he was fumbling with his words. “Can Jedi really get into people’s heads and make them do things they don’t want to? It seems...wrong.”

Ben didn’t look at his apprentice, but Luke could see him thinking through the corners of his eyes. “You’re right. It is wrong to force others to do things they don’t want to. It is a dangerous power and can be abused for evil, but as Jedi we must use it only as a means to avoid conflict. A Jedi does not use the Force for their own benefit, but for the good of all.”

“So…” Luke pondered the old Jedi’s words, “Since he wouldn’t tell you willingly, you  _made_ him tell you to avoid violence?”

Ben gave a slight nod, “Correct; getting involved in an altercation there would have been detrimental to our journey. There was also the need to hurry.”

“Why, is something wrong?”

Ben’s voice was grim and the old Jedi picked up his pace, “If what our friend back there told us is correct, then we should hope we find this Solo before Jabba does.”

Luke had forgotten the bartender mentioned Solo being in trouble with Jabba. Even on the moisture farm, Luke knew the name and all of its infamy. The Hutt crime lord practically ruled the underworld and called the shots from his palace on Tatooine. If Solo was in trouble with the Hutt, then he made a dangerous mistake coming here.

“Right.” Picking up his pace, Luke hurried after the old Jedi. Together, they maneuvered their way through the crowded pale yellow streets of Mos Eisley, holding onto the sliver of hope that Jabba the Hutt hadn’t already turned Solo into a scorch-mark.

 

\----

 

"Jabba, Jabba,  _Jabba_ ,” Han Solo had no idea how he was going to talk himself out of this one, but a charming smile couldn’t have hurt the situation. “You gotta believe me, I wanted to get that shipment to you just as much as you did. You think I like missing deadlines or dumping cargo?” The Hutt didn’t respond, his wrinkled, slime-crusted face more impassive than Solo had ever seen. The slug’s wide, ugly orange eyes tracked the smuggler as he paced back and forth.

“ _No!_ ” Han put his hands on his chest and gave the most hurt look he could manage. “I’m a businessman at heart, so when those Imperials started boarding me, it was either face a life sentence or--”

“Or lose my money,” The Hutt bellowed. His long green tail struck the sand and raised a small plume of dust. Han wasn’t the most fluent in Huttese, but he had taken enough jobs from Jabba to know a good tone from a bad one.

Solo kept his hands on the sides of his waist, fighting the urge to scratch that itch rising up his back and onto his neck. “It wasn’t an  _easy_  choice, Jabba.”

“And was frying poor Greedo an easy choice, Solo?” This time, Han didn’t have to fake his outrage--but he definitely tempered it a bit.

“You sent Greedo to blast me!”

“Greedo was told to send you a message.” Jabba gurgled out in his wet language. Han really wished the Hutt would’ve just learned some Basic,  _Guess when you’re the big, bad boss of the Underworld, you don’t really have to cater to your employees,_ Solo thought to himself.

“If the message was that you wanted me neck deep in the nearest sarlacc pit,” He shifted his weight as he felt the less than subtle truth in his words. “Then message received.”

The Hutt let out a sonorous laugh, his meter wide head throwing back as much as his lack of a neck would allow. Han took the time to triple check his possible exits.  _Yup,_ he lamented,  _Still trapped._

A dozen of Jabba’s finest covered each exit; a ragtag group of the roughest humans, rodians, and weequays Han had the displeasure of being held prisoner by. To Jabba’s right was perhaps the worst of the whole bunch--Boba Fett. The infamous Mandalorian had been working for Jabba for years, taking care of any snitch, runaway, or loose end that happened to be bad for business. He was said to be faster than a Jedi, deadlier than an acklay, and uglier than a rancor. Unfortunately, Solo found himself on Jabba’s short list, and taking care of a dozen of Jabba’s enforcers sounded like a vacation compared to taking on Fett.

Han’s eyes covered the remainder of the bay, all that he had going for him was the Falcon, but even with Chewbacca inside, Han knew that it would take far too long for the ship to power up its defense turrets to be of any help--and he couldn’t really signal to the wookie from outside without Fett blasting him. Besides, Chewie knew better than to try anything.

Every possible out was blocked, every move checked, and no matter how many times Han ran through the situation, it all ended exactly the same--except for one small detail. Just as the Hutt’s boisterous laughter died down, Han caught the slightest movement of something on one of the upper balconies of the docking bay.  _Cover fire seems a bit overkill, huh, Jabba?_  Solo thought to himself, but, for some reason, it didn’t feel like another precaution.

“Solo, my boy,” Jabba’s ravenous mouth drew the smuggler’s attention again. “It pains me to do this, but,” Han took a step back and glared at the Mandalorian who had drawn his blaster. The cornered smuggler didn’t bother reaching for his own DL-44...not yet while the odds looked like this. “You’ve cost me too much, too often. I’m afraid that last job was your last.”

Han let himself catch his breath, long enough to mask his panic with even more confidence, but short enough that Boba didn’t take it upon himself to scorch him.

“What if I could find another job--one worth double that last shipment?”

The Hutt let out a low groan. “Han, you were my favorite out of the bunch. Fett, you may--” Jabba was cut off by the loud ringing echo of a blaster shot, and he grunted in surprise as his hired bounty hunter flew backwards. Han wasted no time drawing his own blaster and opening fire on the two nearest thugs.

They were caught off guard and fell with a thud, but Solo wasn’t as lucky with the rest--not even a second later, the surprise faded, and the other enforcers cocked their blasters and trained them on Solo. A familiar wookie battle roar reverberated through the Falcon as it powered on, its repulsorlift engines raising a cloud of sand and dust, obscuring Han and the Hutt.  _Heh, they won’t dare shoot knowing they might hit target practice over here._

“You will pay for this, Solo!” Jabba roared furiously, unable to do much more as Han placed his blaster against the slug’s thick body.

“Probably,” The smuggler agreed. “But it doesn’t look like I’ll be paying today.”

Just as he finished his sentence, Han saw Fett roll to his feet, grabbing his blaster, and aiming at Solo in one fluid motion. The bounty hunter was as quick as the stories about him said, and as Fett let loose a volley of blaster shots, Han realized maybe one of those stories hadn’t been as true as the others.

 

\----

 

Luke had begun to think that maybe getting involved with this Solo guy was more trouble than it was worth, but seeing the brown haired man try and talk his way out of a hopeless situation made Skywalker’s heart drop. To get into the docking bay, he and Ben had to sneak around armed guards blocking the entryways, they were lucky that no one was up on the second floor overlooking the bay. From their vantage point, they were able to hear the exchange and see the slow, inevitable shift towards Solo’s end...and Luke couldn’t stand for it.

As the Hutt let out a deep laugh, Luke began to rise and reached for the blaster he had taken with him from home. Just as his fingers edged the handle, he felt Ben place a hand on his shoulder. “Patience, Luke.” Is all the hermit said. Luke brought his head down just as Solo threw a passing glance up to where they were.

Imagining himself in the man’s position, trapped and alone, Luke felt a surge of empathy for Solo. Whatever he had done to put himself in the position didn’t matter, Luke could feel the fear in Solo resonating inside his own mind. The short hairs on Luke’s arm rose with a wave of chilling goosebumps, an uncomfortable itch moving up his spine to his neck. Luke scratched the spot, and refocused his attention on the scene below.

The green armored gangster had raised his blaster rifle and had it aimed directly at Solo. The fear Luke had been feeling spiked, and whatever Ben had tried to tell him about patience slipped away. Solo let out one last plea before the Hutt cut him off, and right before Jabba finished talking, an uncontrollable urge moved Luke to action.

Pulling his blaster, Luke fired a single shot directly at the armored thug's chest, knocking him back. It seemed like that one action spurred a flurry of activity as Solo wasted two more thugs, and the freighter the altercation was happening under activated, its repulsorlifts kicking up a miniature sandstorm. Luke covered his face as the sands hit him. He was only down for a moment, but in that time he heard the sounds of Jabba roaring in anger. Fearing the worst, Luke turned, to find everyone below...motionless.

Around a dozen blaster rifles were aimed at the group of four by the ship. The hum of the freighter’s engines barely muted the sounds of Ben Kenobi’s lightsaber as it deflected the bodyguard’s blaster shots and held itself by the thug’s neck. Luke hadn’t even noticed the hermit move, one second Ben was right next to him, the next he had jumped down and cleared 30 feet.  _Was this what it was like to be a Jedi?_  Luke’s mind raced in awe.  _Super speed? Mind control? What_  can't  _Jedi do_?

“Sorry to interrupt, but I have business with your associate here.” Ben’s calm voice eased Luke a bit, but the dozen or so blasters aimed at the old Jedi didn’t.

The Hutt let out a series of vicious sounding noises.

“It’s either this, Jabba,” Ben countered the slug. “Or we can see if Solo shoots as he loses cargo.”

"Hey, whose side are you on?" The smuggler let his eyes shift from the bounty hunter to the old Jedi for a half second.

The Hutt looked from Solo to Ben before opening his giant mouth to let out another round of deep laughter, stopping to speak in Huttese again.

“Yeah, yeah.” Solo said cautiously. “50,000 sounds a little high for," He gestured around to Obi Wan and the two dead thugs. “A little misunderstanding.”

With another laugh and phrase in Huttese, Luke saw all the thugs lower their blasters, the one in green armor hesitated before following suit. Solo pointed his blaster pistol a little bit away from the Hutt, and Ben deactivated his lightsaber. Slowly, Jabba and his crew made their way out of the docking bay. They didn’t bother to pick up the dead bodies, instead pushing them aside so the Hutt wouldn't have to crawl around.

A moment passed, and Solo and Ben exchanged a few words between one another. Finally, the smuggler nodded and let out a heavy sigh.

Turning to look up at Luke, Ben smiled. “Come along, Luke. I think we’ve found ourselves a ship.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comments/kudos are appreciated!!


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now, back to Leia ...

The Grand Moff’s sudden departure had brought about a swift crackdown aboard the Death Star. Technicians, officers, and general personnel, who had been in contact with the Moff close to his time of death, were put on suspension as the Imperial Security Bureau began the arduous process of investigating the circumstances of Tarkin’s murder.

Eventually, ISB would find the evidence they were looking for, and it would incriminate an inconsequential officer--leading to their inevitable trial, conviction, and execution. The public would be fed lies while the internal components continued to work in secrecy, but that was the duty of the _Emperor’s Hand_.

Following Darth Vader’s emergency transmission after Alderaan’s demise, Mara Jade had been tasked by her master to oversee the delicate transition of leadership. With Tarkin dead, Grand Admiral Ewett Niteren was appointed as the leading official on the Death Star, but Niteren’s convoy wouldn’t arrive for a few more rotations, giving the Rebellion forces on Yavin IV more than enough time to scatter into the recesses of the galaxy again. _Damn it,_ Mara swore to herself, _You better have a good explanation for this, Vader._

As the last of the special "cargo" was loaded onto the Emperor’s personal Lambda-class shuttle, _Current_ , Mara made a mental note of every face and troop number in the private hangar. _Seven..._ Jade began running through the different methods her master had taught her to get rid of loose ends. The secret codes that only she and a handful of others knew, which allowed Imperial logbooks and reports to be altered, played themselves back and forth with perfect accuracy--the Emperor made sure she could remember even the most complex sequences of characters from only a glance. _Just seven; easy enough._

Mara stepped away from the ramp as the stormtroopers exited the shuttle and stood in front of her awaiting new orders -- all seven troopers and officers, all of whom would meet with various accidents within a week of one another. All of whom would have been running--just like the rebels--if they had any idea of Jade’s intentions for them.

“Dismissed.”

The group made their way out of the hangar, leaving her to her privacy. She entered the shuttle and went through the task of confirming she had everything she needed for the journey back to Coruscant. She passed by each room on the ship, opening and closing the doors, crossing off the names on her mental list.

 _First, the bodies of Queen Breha Organa and Grand Moff Wilhuff Tarkin,_ Mara opened the door and saw the motionless forms laying within two separate preservation capsules. Tarkin’s face looked as severe as ever, his eyes furrowed in a way that made it seem like he was judging Mara’s posture even in death. A thin-lipped frown permanently hung on the Moff’s mouth. Mara guessed Tarkin didn’t like the idea of someone else taking the credit for his big project.

She then turned her eyes to the Queen. Her face seemed to have an almost ethereal serenity to it. The Queen’s face held a smile, as if in her last moments she was reassured by the sight of something...

Seeing the two corpses side by side--one angry and the other happy--Mara would’ve assumed Organa had destroyed the Moff’s homeworld, not the other way around. Jade felt a surge of animosity seeing the Queen, a proud traitor, be so content with her death.

 _Looks don’t matter when you’re rebel scum,_ Mara reminded herself, closing the door as a wave of hatred filled her.

 _Second, Bail Organa, Viceroy of Alderaan._ Opening the next door, Mara’s contempt for the traitors started to slip. The man before her was nothing like the charismatic individual she had seen speaking so many times in the Imperial Senate. Everything about him was _broken_ \--he didn’t even bother looking up to see who had come to check on him, instead burying his red eyes in his hands and returning to his sorrow.

Jade closed the door as a voice she didn’t recognize rose to combat her surge of empathy. _Organa deserves whatever he got,_ the voice asserted, _All the traitors do… this is the price for crossing the Empire._

Mara had a reprieve from her mental debate as she made the much longer transition to the final room. Her black boots echoed in the virtually empty shuttle, and she could make out the reflection of her dark-blue uniform against the polished silver metal. Her long red hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and her blaster pistol rested comfortably in its waist holster. As she stopped outside the final door, she turned to acknowledge the towering shape that seemingly materialized behind her.

“Lord Vader,” Mara tried to muster some respect in her voice, but she still blamed him for the Rebellion's escape, “the Emperor is _most_ displeased by your failure to oversee the Grand Moff’s safety.”

The black behemoth let out a particularly hostile breath from his respirator, “My master’s displeasure is for _him_ to express, Jade.” He looked down at her, unmoving.

Mara and Vader didn’t necessarily care for one another, that much was obvious. And given recent events, that dislike had the potential to explode into a race for the Emperor’s favor. Palpatine’s Hand versus his apprentice; in a battle, Jade didn’t stand a chance, but if she could destroy the dark lord's image, then her master might dispose of him like anyone else.

Mara nudged her head in the direction of the door, “If you’ll excuse me, Lord Vader, I have business to attend to.”

The Sith didn’t move, but he did reach out with his arm to point at Mara. It was a habit Vader used to assert his dominance, and one that was bound to get his finger ripped off if he kept it up.

“You will not be entering this room, _Hand_ ,” Vader’s deep voice lacked any doubt.

Jade felt her eyes narrow in annoyance. “The Emperor said--”

“The Emperor is not here,” he cut her off. His finger was lowered, but the tension rose.

“Do you want him to be?” Mara hissed, a malicious glint in her emerald green eyes. The words would have been nonsensical coming from anyone else, but not Mara Jade. Being the Emperor’s Hand, she had a strong connection to him, and could channel his presence from almost anywhere in the galaxy. Her eyes were his, her thoughts were his, her voice was his. Mara Jade _was_ the Emperor’s will.

Vader recognized this, and he stood straighter so that he was no longer looking down on Mara. Still, he stepped in front of her and keyed in a special lock code, one Mara didn’t recognize. _So, Vader knows some things I don’t?_ The thought was bitter but she swallowed it.

“No one sees the princess without my permission,” he made his way down the silver hallway towards the _Current's_ exit, pausing for a moment, “The Emperor isn’t the only one prone to wrath.” With that, Darth Vader turned the corner, his footsteps and heavy breathing slowly fading into the ambience of the ship.

Mara watched the Sith go. She loathed the black cloaked man more than she wanted to admit, and she promised herself that as soon as the Emperor willed it, Darth Vader, Lord of the Sith, would die.

 

\----

 

_The wisps of smoke rising from her mother’s body had barely faded before Grand Moff Wilhuff Tarkin moved to torment her father next. Bail Organa--her hero--had been reduced to nothing more than silent sobs and groans. Tears fell from the same eyes that used to make her feel so safe, screams came from the voice that used to comfort her when she was scared. The man that used to stand so tall had been reduced to… this._

_“The last of the Organa’s,” The Grand Moff reveled in her world’s destruction… her mother’s death… her father’s despair, “A truly lonely existence, isn’t it, Viceroy?” His steel blue eyes showed no sympathy, no remorse--only a pure satisfaction in tearing her family apart. The Moff turned his back on her father, and for a moment, she really believed that maybe her father would be spared. Maybe some part of her life would survive, but a dark realization came to her._

_She couldn’t explain it, but she knew what was going to happen. She heard Tarkin tell his trooper to fire. She saw her father fall to the floor. She felt the loneliness of losing the last of her family. She felt the guilt for allowing herself to be captured. She felt the regret for not hiding the Death Star’s plans. But, above all else, she felt the hate for the Empire--for Tarkin, and Vader, and the Emperor--who brought this pain about. Of all the things she felt… only the hate filled the loneliness._

_Only the hate made the pain go away._

_And so she dug into that feeling… she clawed her way down as deep as she could go, to a place where pain turned to pleasure. She felt the joy of imagining her hands around Tarkin’s throat, tightening. Forcing that awful smile off his face as he realizes that he doesn’t have the breath to taunt her or her father or anyone else ever again. Feeling his neck seize and his fingers claw at her hands. Squeezing harder and harder as he chokes and rasps and suffers. Until he feels a fraction of the pain she felt. Until she felt a fraction of the joy he feels._

_And even when Tarkin falls to the ground, powerless and broken, she won’t consider letting go of her grip. Only when Vader, and the Emperor, and every last Imperial is made to pay for their crimes will she ever let go of her hate. Only when her mother and father and all of Alderaan are avenged, will she ever let go of her pain._

_And as the dark vision fades, and the image of the Grand Moff taking his last breath bleeds into reality, she knows that Tarkin’s death won’t be enough to fill the hole in her heart… but it helps._

 

\----

 

Leia Organa awoke with a start.

Her long brown hair had unfurled from its intricate buns, falling over her shoulders and hanging in her face. She brushed the strands away and sat up on the small bed. Leia could feel that her sheets were damp, and the drab gray clothing the Empire had provided her was even more wet from her cold sweat. Changing out of one gray shirt for the next, Leia let her heartbeat settle before trying to do anything else.

 _The same dream again,_ Organa had been suffering from frequent nightmares ever since the Empire captured her. They would always begin and end the same way, vividly, as if it all actually happened. _But the sensation of strangling the Grand Moff,_ Leia looked at her hands, _It can’t be real, I was nowhere near him…_

Still, even awake, she could remember every hard breath, every scratch, every struggle the Moff made to free himself from her grasp--all to no avail. The hopeless death-rattle of his lungs and the resigned collapse of his body against the Death Star’s shiny white floors replayed themselves in Leia’s ears. The enjoyment she felt being able to choke Tarkin and make him pay for everything he did--

Leia didn’t like sleeping anymore.

But being awake was hardly any better. From what she could tell, she was trapped inside an imperial transport shuttle, and had been there for at least five days. A daily meal pack would arrive via the room’s transport tube each time she woke up. _I guess no one wants to come visit the rebel-princess personally_ , Leia thought. It was okay with her, she didn’t really want to see anyone--especially not an imperial, and definitely not--

“Father,” Leia whispered. She hadn’t seen what happened to the viceroy after her “vision”, but she had a feeling in the back of her mind that he was alright. Or at least, what was left of him. Seeing the woman and world he loved taken right before his eyes must have broken something in Bail Organa, and Leia couldn’t really blame him. She wanted nothing more than to give up, but her mother’s last words stayed with her.

_Hope is never lost._

Leia agreed with her mother. She would find a way to prove those words true, to get back at those who had tried to destroy it. Even in death, Breha Organa was still the heart of their family, and Leia wouldn’t forgive herself if she forgot.

With a newfound rush of adrenaline, the princess of Alderaan resolved herself to find a way out of this situation and back to the Rebellion. There was still one man she could go to for help, and because the Empire went through her protocol droid, C-3PO, and astromech, R2-D2, she didn’t have to face intensive Imperial interrogation and divulge her knowledge of the last Jedi in the galaxy: Obi-Wan Kenobi.

Kenobi had been a Jedi master in the Old Republic and fought during the Clone Wars, working alongside her father to bridge the peace between the Republic and Separatists before Supreme Chancellor Sheev Palpatine claimed treason and branded the Jedi Order as traitors. Her father had helped Kenobi escape the Purge and relocate to the Outer Rim world of Tatooine. She had planned on asking the Jedi for help before her capture, but now she would just have to find a way to contact him within Imperial custody.

It was definitely a longshot, but it was all Leia had left to fall back on. Mon Mothma was an amazing leader, but she had a hard enough time corralling the skittish leaders of the Rebel Alliance together. After Alderaan, it would be a surprise if the leadership didn’t turn her over to spare their own worlds from a similar fate. The princess knew in her heart that the Jedi were the last hope to stop the Empire--to kill Vader and the Emperor.

The dark fire she felt in her dreams burned again. Imagining the deaths of Darth Vader and the Emperor… _Is it wrong to want this?_ She asked herself. _They deserve to die, but should it make me feel this way?_ She tried not to think about the dark cloaked galactic dictator or his evil henchman, but that became exponentially harder as the door to her room slid open.

Leia took a step back as Darth Vader entered the room, his large form taking up half of the small area. The door closed behind him, and the silence was filled by Vader’s punctuated breathing.

Organa was on edge, but--oddly enough--she didn’t feel any fear. Just anger.

“Are you here to torture me?” she spat, her eyes staring up at the fiend’s black mask, “I figured you would’ve sent one of your _imps_ to do the job.” The question was probing an unsettling possibility.

Vader let Leia toil in the chance that that might indeed be what’s happening. “Your life has just become of value to the Empire, _princess_.”

Leia was confused--it added to the edge she felt, “What do you mean?”

“I am taking you to have an audience with my master.”

Leia’s words caught in her throat as she imagined being in the presence of the Emperor. She had heard stories from her father about the man; he was shrouded in secrecy and markedly much crueler than how he used to be when he was just the Supreme Chancellor. He was said to practice an ancient religion similar to the Jedi, but what worried Leia the most was the fact that he controlled Vader like a Kath-hound on a leash.

“What does the Emperor want with _me_?” she managed to force out of her surprise.

“I informed my master of your murder of the Grand Moff,” Vader responded.

Leia let her eyes fall to her hands as the sensation of strangling Tarkin pulsed through her. _I really killed him?_

Darth Vader began to turn to leave the room, but Leia snapped out of her trance in time to ask the question racing through her mind.

“How?” she could hear how desperate her voice sounded, imagined how wild her eyes looked, but she didn't care. She needed an answer for what she was feeling.

Vader turned back to face her, letting out another heavy breath, “The Grand Moff was murdered through the dark side of the Force.”

 _The Force?_ Leia struggled to wrap her head around what he meant. _Isn’t that what Father said the Jedi use to fight? How could I have killed Tarkin with it? I’m no Jedi…_

“Be grateful for your gifts, princess,” the dark lord mewed, stepping out of the room, “They have spared your life for now.”

The door slid shut, and Leia could hear his heavy footsteps fall further away. She sat down on her bed, more confused than ever. _If Tarkin was really dead, and I killed him, then…_

The princess let her thoughts wonder as the muscles in her hands tensed and eased with every image of her nightmares.

 

\----

 

Darth Vader found himself in the cockpit of the _Current_ sooner than he would’ve liked. He had visited the princess to get a better understanding of the connection he felt to her, but left even more unbalanced. Leia Organa was strong in the Force, that was of no debate. If given the proper training, she had the potential to become a powerful Sith, perhaps even strong enough to help him overthrow the Emperor. But it wasn’t the princess’s power that concerned him, it was the ripple in the Force he now felt being in her presence.

It was something Vader had never felt before, only appearing after she used her power to kill the Grand Moff. It was a subtle change, just the slightest alteration in the way he perceived her presence, but something deeper gnawed at the back of his mind. What was this strange _connection_ he felt to the princess?

“You know, most co-pilots at least turn the engines on,” Mara Jade’s insolent voice brought Vader back to the present. He was piloting the _Current_ with the Emperor’s Hand--he was on his way back to his master.

Vader didn’t bother to respond to Jade’s comment. He did, however, flip the switches that allowed the _Current_ to rise and slowly free itself from the hangar. As the white and silver innards of the Death Star gave way to the speckled-black of open space, Vader’s mind flashed back to his time on Tatooine--of when he was a slave dreaming of being amongst the billions of stars.

Something about the desert world resonated in his mind… a quiet _buzzing_ that brought his focus back to the princess. But as Mara Jade pulled the hyperdrive lever, the feeling vanished into the blue-white tunnel of hyperspace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kudos/comments are welcomed ;-)
> 
>  


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ty to those waiting patiently <3 <3

Han Solo has done a lot of things in his lifetime, but sitting back and watching a kid try to block blaster bolts with a laser-sword,  _ while blindfolded _ , was definitely a first. The tiny training orb let out non-lethal zaps periodically, roaming around so that it never hit the same place twice. Every couple of seconds, a sharp hiss would sound followed by a yelp--it was funny the first few times, but Han didn’t much care for the expected.

“Ya know, you’d probably have gotten one by now without that  _ bucket _ on your head,” Han growled, rising from his seat to stand in front of the blinded kid. He had to duck as Luke took a swing at him, mistaking his presence for the droid’s. “Hey! Watch it!”

He snatched the helmet off of the kid’s head and glared at him. It must’ve really been been doing its job because Luke had to cover his eyes with his hands, adjusting his vision to the low light of the  _ Falcon _ . 

“Ben said I had to use the Force to sense it!” Luke chirped defiantly, turning off his lightsaber and reaching for the helmet cradled under Han’s arm. Luke placed his hand on top of it, but before he could get a grip, Solo put his free hand on Luke’s shoulder, pulling the farm boy close enough to make out the annoyance in the smuggler’s face.

“Why use some ‘Force’ when you have your  _ eyes _ ?” He jabbed Luke in the bridge of the nose. The kid let out a sound of surprise as his hands went from holding his sore nose to catching the helmet Solo tossed his way. 

As Han settled back into his seat, he threw a look over to Chewie to see if there was anything better he could be doing. Unfortunately, the wookiee had come to the conclusion there wasn’t, and was half asleep on the lounge--mumbling something about trash compactors in Shyriiwook. 

“I’m supposed to trust in the Force,” Luke explained, his helmet was back on and his blue lightsaber reignited. “It’s this power that connects everything in the galaxy: you, me, Ben, Chewbacca, everything! You just don’t  _ understand _ !” The training droid had started up again, it’s piston-like sounds whistling. Finally, the droid hissed its bolt, Luke reacted, bringing his lightsaber to intercept it--a brilliant blue arc filled Han’s eyes as the lightsaber moved with fluid purpose, and for a split second, Solo actually believed the kid might know what he was talking about.

“Blast!”

Then again, maybe he didn’t. 

Han stood up again wearing a smirk, strolling to lean against the  _ Falcon’s _ metal frame. “Kid, there’s only three things you should trust: your ship, your blaster, and yourself.” He jumped as Chewie let out a particularly mouthy roar.

“Of course I trust you, furball,” Han tapped the side of his head with two fingers, “You’re the only one helping me keep this on my shoulders.”

The wookiee was satisfied by the response and turned over in his bunk. Han decided there wasn’t much else to see so he turned to leave the room.

“That sounds like a lonely life,” Luke’s voice was soft, even as the droid popped and hissed around him, “I don’t think I’d be happy if I could only believe in myself…”

Solo didn’t bother to turn around--Luke couldn’t have seen him anyways. 

“Yeah, well,” He had paused but continued walking, “life ain’t about being happy, kid--it’s about staying alive.” With that, the smuggler left the aspiring Jedi to his studies.

 

\----

 

“We should reach Denon in a couple more days. My contact should have that ship for cheap like you want,” Han Solo strolled into the room he had offered Ben Kenobi for the duration of the trip. “I still don’t know why you don’t just let me take you there--wherever it is you’re trying to get to.”

The old Jedi sat cross legged on the floor of the  _ Falcon _ , the cot he was provided looked untouched. Han couldn’t help but feel like the old man thought he was too good for the smuggler’s comforts. Ben opened his eyes but remained in his meditative position, addressing Han in the calm voice he always seemed to have.

“Luke and I will need to reach our destination alone and unfollowed,” The old man informed Solo. “I’m afraid with your 50,000 bounty, we’d run the risk of being followed,” his voice grew stern, “that cannot happen.”

Han moved from standing over the old Jedi to standing to his side. He turned to face the same direction as Ben and let out a sigh, “You really think there’s anywhere in this galaxy Jabba won’t find you? You heard him back there; no bounty hunter is gonna pass up those 20,000 credits on your head any time soon.”

The old Jedi smiled. “I appreciate the concern, but Luke and I will be alright.” He stood up, faster than Han would’ve expected of someone his age. “These ships, where are they from?”

“The Muren Clan--Mandalorians--you’re getting ‘em through a middleman,” Solo slowly paced until he was in front of the old Jedi, “I got a contact employed by them, said these ships will be goin’ fast the next couple months. Apparently the Empire’s making moves, and the market’s oversaturated ‘cause of some group heading out of business.” 

Everything Han said was true, but the details were scattered enough to leave the old man satisfied and not too curious. If the old man asked too many questions, he might get skittish about purchasing decommissioned Rebellion war ships. And if the Jedi got skittish, then Han wouldn’t get his 6,000 cut of the credits--it wouldn’t put a dent in his debt to Jabba, but it’d be enough to shut a few people up until he and Chewie figured out their next move.

“Are you afraid?” Ben’s eyebrow raised slightly. Han gave him a defensive look before responding gruffly.

“Afraid of what?” He didn’t like being called a coward.

The old Jedi didn’t have to explain.

“If you’re asking if I’m afraid of Jabba and the fact every spaceport and cantina has my face plastered on it,” He puffed out his chest slightly. “Then don’t ask.” With that, Han stormed out of the room.

These passengers were beginning to get on his last nerve.

As he barged his way back into the lounge, he was starting to think that maybe he was just losing his mind altogether.

In the middle of the room was Luke, helmet on, laser-sword ignited, and next to him was Chewbacca, blindfolded with a piece of cloth, holding a piece of the  _ Falcon _ that the wookiee would probably say “fell off”. The training droid buzzed around them both, popping and hissing out its practice bolts. 

Luke was laughing and smiling, and Chewie was doing the wookiee equivalent--except angrier. Every time the bolt came out towards Chewie, he would let out a pained whine, and swing his small metal shield wildly, careful not to swing in Luke’s direction.

Whenever the bolt came out towards Luke, the farm boy swung his weapon as well, but not wildly. Each time, the blue beam intercepted the droid’s bolt, and the kid would let out a small laugh and grin a little wider. 

Seeing the two of them side by side, Han couldn’t deny how impossible it looked. If he hadn’t seen the old Jedi deflect Boba Fett’s blaster shots right in front of his face, Han probably still would’ve been skeptical. But seeing Luke, who not even a few minutes ago was fumbling and getting shocked, deflect each bolt that came at him--Han Solo started to believe that maybe there was something to this “Force” thing after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kudos/comments appreciated :-))


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> let's see what left of the rebellion...

Zabraks didn’t take well to bad news, and Geiree Hynt was nowhere near the exception. Being a member of General Jan Dodonna’s Massassi spy network, Hynt had expected the Empire to unveil their new superweapon, but nothing could’ve prepared her, or anyone else in the galaxy, for its effects. The news of Alderaan’s destruction came only moments before the news of the Emperor’s dismantling of the Imperial Senate. Palpatine was making a power play for what little control individual worlds still retained—the Galactic Empire was only a few moves away from being complete.

So, when General Dodonna’s transmission from Yavin IV came in, Commander Hynt prepared her pilots for the fight of their lives. Her squadron of x-wings and y-wings weren’t much, but the men and women piloting them were just how Hynt liked them: young, skilled, and out for blood. Even if they were just a handful, a couple of fighters in the right hands could raise some Hell.

The Commenor-based hideout was in full swing by the time the general delivered the news—the mission to Scarif had ended in failure, the evacuation of Yavin IV was almost complete, and the Rebel Alliance... had fallen.

Hynt had begged the general to not give in, to keep fighting, but the decision had been made by the president of the Alliance, Mon Mothma. The advisory council had disbanded, leaving Dodonna to oversee Yavin IV’s evacuation alone. The bearded general looked more tired than Hynt had ever seen him.

_ General, please, _ her hands clenched tightly on the edge of the holotable as she leaned in.  _ There must be something we can do, we can’t just give up like this. _

_ No one’s giving up, Commander,  _ Dodonna tried to explain.  _ So long as the Empire has that weapon, we can’t afford to hold the entire galaxy accountable for our actions. Our mission is to protect them, not abet in the subjugation and genocide of billions. _

Hynt took that in for a moment. The general had a point—he always did—but she knew that fighting always had its consequences, too. Hynt didn’t become a rebel for fun, she did it for the pain the Empire brought to Iridonia. She knew that if no one chose to stand up for what was right, then stormtroopers would fill the streets of every world, even more species would be forced to slave away for the construction of even more horrific weapons.

She had seen the planets laid to waste just by Imperial bureaucracy and judicial rule—Alderaan wasn’t the first to suffer, and it surely wouldn’t be the last.

_ Then we do nothing? We let these monsters have their way? _

_ We wait until the time is right, Commander. _

_ The longer we wait, the more people die! Can’t you see that, General? _

_ I’ve never seen anything clearer, Hynt— _

_ Then why won’t you resist? We didn’t always have a military or president or council. Don’t you remember? Wouldn’t you rather take a few steps back than stop moving altogether? _

_ These aren’t a few steps anymore, Commander. We don’t speak for the galaxy as a whole—those aren’t our lives to give and take. Alderaan was more than just a consequence or casualty; it was the sign that things won’t end well—not for us, and not for anyone or anything that gets caught in the crossfire. _

Silence filled the valley-sized difference between the two, and if it were anyone else, the transmission would have already ended, but Hynt was still a soldier whether she liked it or not.

_ What are my orders, General? _

Dodonna gave her the directive for the cell: she was to contact verified buyers for her fighter squadron and sell them along with every astromech, heavy weapon, and piece of information they planned on using to fight the Empire. The Rebellion wasn’t dissolving, it was being turned into fuel—fuel that would be burned by pirates, bounty hunters, and anyone else in the underworld.

The zabrak nodded, confirming she understood her duties, but before Dodonna could end the transmission, she asked the question that had been paining her for so long.

_ My brother, General… did he survive Scarif? _

Jan Dodonna didn’t need to look at any databank or double check a source for his answer. He understood his men well enough to know what they were going to ask. He respected them enough to give them the truth.

_ We’ve received no contact from Reinosh Hynt’s x-wing since the battle. Unlike those on the surface, he could have survived, but the chances are--  _

_ I understand, sir. _

Jan Dodonna gave his friend one last solemn nod.

_ May the Force be with you, Commander. _

That exchange had been a few days ago.

In that time, Geiree Hynt saw the devolution of everything she worked so hard to build up. The rebel hideout was a shell of what it once was. Eight pilots for 5 x-wings and 3 y-wings, two dozen troops who triple timed as mechanics, patrols, and salesmen; salesmen whose product consisted of the ships, armaments, and information they risked their lives obtaining not even a week earlier—product that was being sold far under market-value just to speed up the process of getting quick credits.

Making her way through the hangar, Geiree passed rows of pilots polishing their fighters for what was probably the last time. They shared teary goodbyes with their ships and astromech copilots, and if Hynt wasn’t on her way to do the same, she would’ve thought it was amusing.

“Hey, Kola,” Hynt knelt in front of her rose-red R3 droids,. “Rellis told me he found a buyer a few of the ships… Mine included.”

Kola let out a low whirr and rolled towards the black Zabrak. She came to a stop as Hynt wrapped her arms around the droid’s dome head. Hynt could feel her face heating up against Kola’s cold transparisteel; she wasn’t going to cry in front of her men, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t reminisce.

“You’ll have to get a memory wipe soon, and,” she caught the crack in her voice before it sounded, “I want you to know I won’t forget you, ever.”

Kola gave out a series of beeps in binary.

“Yeah, I do remember Falleen,” The Zabrak smiled as she brushed away a strand of tan hair that had fallen past her crown of horns, “Those Seppies never knew what hit them when we showed up, huh?”

Kola chirped in a tone that was the closest thing to smugness in binary.

Hynt felt herself smile for the first time in a while. “You and Agen did  _ not _ save the day; We already took out a couple of the factories before you two showed up!”

The rosy astromech’s retort oozed with confidence.

“Okay, okay…” she ran her hand down the droid’s frame. Her eyes grew distant as she remembered the day she first met Kola.

The droid had accompanied Jedi Master Agen Kolar, who she was named after. He was a Zabrak, just like the rest of the Falleen Strike Group. His dark russet skin, black hair, and emerald lightsaber clashed with the three-foot pink astromech at his side. The duo had arrived in time to fight off the ambush that Hynt’s team had stumbled right into; the plan had been to sabotage the droid foundries on the planet, but bad intel had left them exposed and surrounded.

She could still remember the heat of the battle and the hissing of the lightsaber as it cut through wave after wave of super battle-droids. The odds were against them, but Kolar was brave and strong, everything a warrior should be. He commanded authority and respect whilst being patient and understanding. The Jedi master had saved Hynt’s life back then, and though it wasn’t the last time she fought alongside Kolar, it marked the beginning of a deep rooted respect for the Jedi and their Order.

With a chirp, Kola drew Hynt back to the present. The rebel commander caught her surroundings and stood up to address the young female trooper who had snuck up on the two of them.

“Is the astromech ready for the exchange, commander?” 

Hynt flinched--she had forgotten she was saying goodbye to a friend. Only Kola had been with her for the past two decades: through every battle, every victory, every loss. Geiree never had the droid’s memory wiped because only Kola understood her, but General Dodonna ordered it to be done. If anyone ever got their hands on the astromech, then destroying the cell would have been in vain. Kola’s memory wipe was for the good of the Rebellion and the lives of her men.

Hynt fought back the wave of guilt for ordering the technical destruction of her oldest friend. “Yes… she just needs to be--”

“COMMANDER!” 

Hynt was cut off by the shout of her second in command, Lieutenant Rellis Cynchrit. Cynchrit’s loud footsteps drew the attention of anyone who happened to miss his first round of hysterics. He raced through the hangar bay, weaving through thickets of cables and vaulting over boxes. By the time the young officer reached Hynt, he was understandably out of breath.

“Commander… Th’reen… I…,” He was stooped over in his orange jumpsuit, his hands on his knees, his shaggy black hair pointing in every direction.

“Catch your breath, soldier,” Hynt ordered. She wasn’t particularly surprised by Rellis’s lack of conduct but whatever had the kid excited had to be important. After giving him a couple of seconds to breathe, she inquired, “What’s the meaning of this, Cynchrit?”

He looked up at her, a wide smile on his face, his light brown eyes glowing. “The doctor, he’s done it!”

Hynt felt her mouth fall open. Her voice was beyond incredulous.

“Rellis,” she took a step closer to him. “That’s not something to joke about. Did he tell you this or are you just making it up?”

Cynchrit shook his head vehemently. “No, ma’am. He’s done it, really done it this time. The virus--it’s _ready_.”

The Zabrak felt a fire burn in her for the first time since Dodonna’s transmission.

“Take me to the doctor, Lieutenant,” Rellis’s eyes burned with the same passion as he nodded and led Hynt away.

“What about the astromech, Commander?” The female trooper’s voice rang out behind Geiree, “Is it ready for the transfer?”

Hynt was several meters away by the time she heard the question, her mind already kilometers into the future. Without processing anything the trooper had said, Geiree gave a thumbs up and continued jogging after Rellis.

Turning to face Kola who let out a puzzled chirp, the trooper motioned for the astromech to follow. “This way, little guy. Let’s get you loaded onto your ship.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :)) you're all amazing and we love you all<3 <3


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> and back to Leia...

Leia Organa had seen the Imperial Palace many times before, the large building was rivaled in size only by the Senate Rotunda. Still, something about being this close to the towering walls and stone chilled her. Stepping out of the imperial transport ship alongside Darth Vader, Leia felt cold raindrops fall from Coruscant’s climate-controlled sky. The icy rain that hit her face was somehow warmer than whatever emanated from the Palace.

Dressed in the drab gray clothing provided to her, Leia followed a few steps behind the Dark Lord. As the ramp to the transport ship raised behind the two of them; Organa couldn’t help but notice the lack of security throughout the journey to Coruscant and now being there. She never saw anyone else aboard the transport besides Vader, there were no stormtroopers waiting to receive them, no TIE-fighters overhead. Leia wondered if anyone outside of Vader and his master knew where she was--what was happening to her. The thought made her skin crawl, but she kept going, it was all she could do.

As Leia stepped through the large doors of the Palace, she had to fight back the urge to run. She hadn’t felt fear since the _Tantive IV_ and Alderaan, but now… it was the only thing on her mind. Goosebumps rose as she followed Vader in silence through the empty hallways. The walls and pillars they passed were bare, stripped of all adornments. Leia remembered her father telling her stories of what the Palace _used_ to be like when it housed the Jedi Order; it was magnificent and warm, filled with gilded murals and paintings, decorated with complex statues, every hallway alive with smiling faces. It was the heart of the millennium old Galactic Republic. She took a shallow breath, _I wish I could have seen what you saw in this place, Father…_ Imagining the dark corridors as anything other than foreboding seemed impossible.

Leia didn’t know how to describe it, but as they moved deeper into the old temple, she couldn’t help but feel as if something, or _someone,_ was watching her. She turned to look behind her, confirming she was alone with Vader, and yet… she couldn’t shake the feeling that _someone_ else’s presence filled the void of every dark corner. The shadows seemed to reach out like crooked fingers, as if they wanted to wrap around Leia and drag her into their darkness.

Her heart pounded in her chest and it took all her willpower to stop her legs from shaking. Leia fought to hide the fear she felt, but it was relentless. It didn’t just come from around her, the fear… it was _within_ her. She wanted to run, to hide, to cry, to give up.

 _No,_ she promised herself with what strength she had left. _This place, Vader and his master, they don’t scare me._

_I’m not afraid…_

“Your thoughts betray you, Princess,” Vader’s low voice seemed to shake the marbled floors, “You cannot hide them from me in this place.”

Leia didn’t want to admit it but having something to take her mind off of the march through the endless halls was comforting--even if it was just talking to the man she hated.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Organa tried to keep her voice from breaking, “Why is that?” She didn’t really care, but anything to fill the silence…

Vader stopped moving.

“My master,” he raised a clenched fist, “his power is greatest here.”

“The _Emperor_ ,” Leia spat with undisguised disgust. Thinking of the old man who organized everything she stood against made her blood boil, “If you’re bringing me to your master to apologize then you might as well kill me here. I will never bend to you or your emperor.”

A gust of wind blew through the windowless corridor, ruffling Vader’s black cape.

“You will. You have already bent to the power of the dark side.”

_The dark side… He had mentioned that aboard the transport ship--what was it?_

Leia forced herself to voice her thoughts aloud.

“You said I killed Tarkin with it--the dark side… What is it?”

“It is the most visceral form the Force can take. It is passion: anger, hate, fear, love. The dark side of the Force draws upon these emotions and manifests itself as raw power. Power greater than that of the Death Star.”

The sides of Leia’s face began to heat up; Vader hadn’t mentioned Alderaan or even her parents in specific, but the mention of the Death Star brought those not too distant memories flooding back. She winced but she needed to know more.

“What do you mean greater than the Death Star? What could be greater than…” Leia couldn’t bring herself to say _“destroying whole planets”_ and she didn’t have to.

Vader’s tone and response were decisive, as if he had grown tired of repeating himself.

“The power to destroy worlds is _insignificant_ to the Force. Technological terrors are but a glimpse into the true potential of the dark side. The strength my master possesses is something no weapon could ever emulate. Tarkin was a fool, but in the end of his life, _you_ were able to show him a taste of true power.”

Leia had thought about what Vader had told her on the ship--that she was responsible for Tarkin’s death--that she had killed the Grand Moff through the Force. It still didn’t seem real, but if what the Dark Lord told her was true, then she had the same power as Vader and the Emperor. _If I could kill the Grand Moff with it, then maybe I could do the same to--_

Leia’s eyes widened as her hands rose to clutch her throat. The sudden pressure around her neck cut through her thoughts as panic seized her body. She looked to her sides to see who could have snuck up behind her, but no one was there, even her hands found nothing--just her own skin which was quickly compressing under an invisible weight. She let out a staggered cough and stumbled backwards, twisting her neck to try and pry it free from whatever held her. It was only when her eyes caught sight of Vader did she slowly realize, too late, the source of the chokehold.

From several feet away, Darth Vader faced her, unmoving. His large fist was raised and clenched tightly. Leia’s eyes glared into the fiend’s black mask. Her eyes seared into whoever hid behind that helmet. As her body cried out for air, she filled her lungs with anger. As every cell in her body seemed to burn with the need to breathe, she stared at Vader and satisfied her body with hate. The desire to breathe seemed to drown beneath wave after wave of anger for the man who stood idly by and watched her people die.

Slowly, Leia came to her full height, the pressure she felt on her throat burned away by flames of aching hatred. Something in the back of her mind told her to use that hate, to reach out to Vader--to act on it--but as Leia raised her hand to indulge in that feeling, she jerked upwards.

With a gasp, she writhed wildly as an unseen power ripped her from the ground. The anger dissipated into terror. Leia was suspended in the air, for the first time she was higher than Darth Vader. She didn’t know what to do, she couldn’t speak or resist the pressure that now held her whole body. Leia was terrified, and it showed in the tears that ran down her cheeks.

No sound came from her, all there was to hear was the never-ending breathing of Vader. All there was to _feel_ was the powerlessness of being torn from the floor. All there was to see were the shadowed halls of the Palace and the dark void of Vader’s mask. So, Leia closed her eyes and dreamed of home.

_Mother, I’m sorry… I couldn’t do anything to save you or father or Alderaan. I couldn’t stop Vader or the Emperor. I couldn’t protect the plans or Captain Antilles. I couldn’t save the Rebellion. I couldn’t do anything. I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…_

Leia resigned herself to her worst fears and greatest failures.

But too soon for Vader. As she dropped to the ground, she didn’t bother catching her fall, instead collapsing into a ball on the cold floor. She was shaking and breathing harder than ever--ragged breaths that she didn’t think she would ever be taking again. Crawling to her hands and knees, she saw the flowing black cape of Darth Vader blending with the encroaching sea of shadows down the hallway.

“My master will not be as merciful with your thoughts as I am, Princess.”

Leia couldn’t tell if she had really heard Vader or just imagined the booming voice, but, nevertheless, she willed herself to her feet and followed after the man she hated deeper into the darkness of the Emperor’s palace.

\----

Raindrops fell against the intricate circular windows above the Emperor’s towering throne. One after another, endlessly. Leia couldn’t help but imagine each drop as a voice crying out to be heard. Each one struck the smooth glass but no sound came. Only silence filled chamber.

Silence and a red-haired woman who knelt at the side of the Emperor.

“Welcome, Princess Organa,” The Emperor’s haunting voice echoed through the spacious room. A heavy hue of blue-black light colored Leia as she stood rigid atop the first row of steps leading to the throne. Darth Vader loomed over her, his dark gaze fixated on the hooded man before them.

Vader fell to one knee like the red-haired woman.

“Forgive me for my failure, master,” As much as Leia wanted, she couldn’t pull her focus from the Emperor’s leering yellow eyes to watch Vader beg for forgiveness. “My actions were--”

“ _Quiet._ ”

The vicious snarl echoed through the chamber. Vader obeyed, and even the Dark Lord’s breathing seemed to be muted. Leia was as much in awe of the Emperor’s command as she was afraid. She felt her right hand start to twitch and covered it with her left. Out of the corner of her eye, she thought she saw the red-haired woman smirk.

“Your inability to sense the danger the Grand Moff faced was a great oversight, Lord Vader. It has given the rebel traitors the time they need to flee to the fringes of my rule,” Leia felt a surge of relief.

_So… I was able to help the Rebellion in some way after all._

“Even now, Grand Admiral Niteren will be too late to apprehend the traitors on the moon of Yavin. Mon Mothma has vanished, as has every senator we suspected of colluding with the Alliance. Your failure has cost my Empire the security we had promised so long ago, old friend. However,” The robed figure rose from his black throne. Leia could make out the sickly pale skin of the Emperor. He held his crooked hands in front of him, his fingers reminding Leia of the Palace’s wicked shadows. He took a step towards her and breathed in deeply.

“You have done well to bring the _princess_ to me,” The Emperor’s eyes shifted from Vader to Leia and she felt as if she were submerged in a tank of freezing water. Even the peaks of Alderaan’s mountains weren’t as frigid as being under Palpatine’s inspection. “Her connection to the Force is most strong. By bringing such a promising candidate, you have proven your loyalty to me and my Empire, Lord Vader.”

Leia could have sworn she saw the red-haired woman grimace.

“Grand Admiral Niteren shall destroy Yavin IV, Mon Calamari, and Sullust; ensuring that no other worlds shall turn against us. And with the princess as my new _apprentice_ \--”

“I will _never_ be your apprentice!” Leia shouted. She felt the silent feud between the woman and Vader shift to her, and finally, she didn’t feel afraid. The fear had evaporated, the heat of righteous indignation fueled her. “I would never serve someone as _corrupt_ and _cruel_ as you. Not after everything you’ve done to my people. You may have the rest of the galaxy afraid of your Death Star, but you don’t scare me, your _Excellency_. Not anymore.”

She meant it. Every word. Leia wasn’t afraid: not of the Emperor, or Darth Vader, or of their superweapon. If she was going to die, then she would die opposing the heart of tyranny just like her mother.

She would die a _rebel_.

The Emperor smiled as he moved to sit back into his throne. No one spoke. Only Vader’s mechanical respiration sounded as he continued to kneel.

“Lord Vader informed me of the fate of your mother and homeworld, Princess,” The Emperor’s drawling voice dug its way into Leia’s ears. “Most unfortunate that such a beautiful world was being led by a family of traitors. Perhaps if your parents had not been foolish enough to toy with treason, then you might still have your precious Alderaan or,” his pale-yellow eyes glinted as his wicked grin widened, “at least your mother.”

Leia knew the Emperor was just trying to draw out her anger, but there wasn’t any need for that. She was already furious. Before, she cowered in the presence of Vader and the Emperor, but now she yearned to lash out at them.

The Emperor closed his eyes and breathed in, savoring Leia’s emotions.

“Good, very good. There is _much_ anger in you, Princess of Alderaan. Much defiance,” Every mention of Alderaan only stoked the fire blazing in Organa’s heart. She wanted to stop Palpatine from ever uttering the name of her home. He didn’t have the right to speak about a planet as gentle and innocent as Alderaan. No one here did.

“You want to hurt me, child?” The question hung in the air for only a second before the Emperor’s face contorted, his eyes opening with a sudden realization. “No… you want to _kill_ me.”

Leia didn’t respond, she remembered Vader telling her that her thoughts weren’t her own here, and she was actually glad for that. Rather than speak, she imagined every possible means of hurting Palpatine and Vader, of making them suffer, of killing them, hoping her mental images could be seen. The thought of them in pain soothed her own…

Leia flinched slightly as the Emperor drew something from beneath the folds of his dark robes. It reminded Leia of the weapon Vader carried on him except it was markedly different in design. This one was thin and smooth with silver and gold coloring. He held it out to her as if beckoning her to step forward and take it.

No… not step forward--to just take it.

“Do it,” He breathed sharply, “take this lightsaber and strike me down, Princess of Alderaan.”

The words were forceful, they spoke to Leia. It was what she wanted, and the opportunity to avenge her people… her mother… it was right there.

“Destroy me now or else I will see to the destruction of the rest of your pitiful _Rebellion_ ,” he rose again, his robed arm outstretched towards Leia, “I will oversee the destruction of world after world until I am satisfied no one will ever stand against me.”

The Emperor’s voice was booming.

“Take it!”

Leia felt herself reach out with her right hand towards the lightsaber. She didn’t know why but it called to her. She _needed_ to have it.

She _needed_ to use it.

She _needed_ to destroy the Emperor here and now.

She felt her mind tugging on the edges of the weapon, it twitched in Palpatine’s pale hands. The Emperor’s voice was like an earthquake in Leia’s mind--she wanted him out. She wanted to cut him out.

“If you don’t stop me, no one will.”

_I know--I know--I know…_

“Kill me.”

_I want to--I want to--I want to…_

“KILL ME _NOW_.”

Leia’s mind exploded at the utterance of that last word. She didn’t know how, but the silver gold cylinder tore through the air and into her hands. As soon as the cold metal touched her skin, a burst of images and emotions ran through her mind. Memories, visions, words, and information Leia couldn’t process.

_A blinding blur of green… pure rage… a flurry of purple and red… malice….talons of jagged blue lightning…_

The lightsaber spoke to Leia in hushed whispers. She couldn’t hear everything, but it gave her a sense of what she needed to do.

She needed to kill, and now she knew how.

Following the call of the lightsaber, she ignited its crimson beam, illuminating the blue darkness of the Emperor’s throne room. A gruesome smile and cackle came from the Emperor as blood red light bathed the area.

Leia contemplated her next move. All eyes were on her.

_The Emperor, he needs to die, but… that woman and Vader, they’d stop me before I came close enough to finish him off. But, if I attacked Vader while he was still kneeling, I don’t think that woman or the Emperor would try to stop me. He’s not the Emperor, but if I can kill at least one of them…_

Leia took a step towards the Emperor, pointing the crackling beam of light towards the throne. Just as she expected, she saw the red-haired woman shift her weight as if anticipating an attack--Leia decided to take her chances.

Letting out a monstrous roar she never knew she could make, Leia swung the red blade in a wild arc behind her. She cursed herself as the beam struck the ground, conjuring a flash of sparks in the spot where Darth Vader used to be.

She didn’t take any time to lament the failed feint, attacking purely on the animalistic instincts she pulled from the lightsaber and within her heart. Her body turned as she lunged repeatedly at Vader, slashing in every direction, pushing the fiend down the flight of steps.

Leia let out a scream of pure rage as she brought the lightsaber down right on top of Vader’s head, hoping to cut the Dark Lord in half. She was surprised, however, as he intercepted her blade with his own. The sound of the two lightsabers crossing was piercing. High pitched screeching, like a chorus of frantic screams, whistled in her ears.

With a growl, she pulled out of the lock, leaping from the final step and facing Vader on level ground. There was a pause in the confrontation as more millisecond memories appeared in Leia’s mind.

_Horns… A sea of red lightsabers… Cackling…_

Cackling just like the insidious laughter ringing in the background of the duel now.

“ _Die!_ ” Leia roared, recklessly charging Vader with the same fervency she had felt towards him since the _Tantive IV_. He parried her strikes, intermittent flashes of white and red illuminated the duo as they pushed their way down the path away from the throne.

Bright crimson light diffused across the dim chamber as the two locked blades again. Leia’s eyes bore into Vader’s mask, her senses had never felt sharper. She could see Vader’s chest expanding as the intensity rose, she could smell the scorched metal beams and stone caught in the way of the blinding torrent, she could hear the raindrops against the throne room’s soundproof glass.

_The raindrops… The voices… Just like Alderaan… JUST LIKE ALDERAAN--_

“Good, _good!_ ” The Emperor’s sadistic glee howled over his laughter, “Give in to your hate. It gives you focus, it gives you strength.”

_I’m no longer powerless… I can change things… I have the power to avenge Mother and Father, to make up for my mistakes--_

“Only through the dark side will you obtain the power to find your _justice_ , Princess.”

_I can do it, Mother… Your hope, I’ve found it--_

“Only by becoming my apprentice will you obtain the power to kill me.”

“No,” Leia pulled away from Vader and allowed herself to breathe. She turned her gaze from Darth Vader to look back at the Emperor. “my power is my own, your Excellency. You’re a monster. You’re evil and you’re twisted, and I _will_ destroy you through my own strength.”

Time seemed to stop as she made her stand. Her _final_ stand against the Empire. Win or lose, this would be it for her, and she was content with that.

“I will never be your apprentice. I am Leia Organa, daughter of Bail and Breha Organa, Princess of Alderaan, and _I_ will be your doom!”

With that declaration, Leia brought her lightsaber down hard. Vader deflected the blow and Leia’s eyes caught the Dark Lord’s blade move to strike her legs. Using the momentum of the parried blow, Leia let her lightsaber change direction in her hands before angling it to counter. If she could follow through, she would be able to kill Darth Vader and make her way to the Emperor, but something about the motion was off--too late, she realized something was horribly wrong.

Just before the two crimson beams connected, Leia felt the handle of the lightsaber slip from her grip. The smooth surface of the silver weapon flew from her fingers, back into the pallid palms of the Emperor. With no way to defend herself, Leia braced for the impact of Vader’s lightsaber.

A blinding pain shot through her as she fell to the floor, her body no longer able to support itself. She wanted to scream, but the searing sensation snaked its way up her body and left her too agonized to voice her pain. The sharp odor of burnt flesh filled her nostrils as the edges of her vision filled with dark tendrils. Leia simply stared upwards at the warped surface of the throne room’s ceiling, the coils of shadows becoming more and more tangible.

Before she drifted into the infinite darkness of unconsciousness, Leia saw the pair of cold yellow eyes glaring down at her.

“You will turn, Princess… I have _foreseen_ it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey lovelies!
> 
> Paul is going to take a break from writing Lost Hope for a bit; he's working on his own story atm!  
> We will be back!
> 
> IN the meantime come yell @ us about sw:  
> Paul (@mother-cocoon)  
> Thais (@bi-hansolo)
> 
> Till we meet again! :-)


	10. Update

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> message from paul<3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey yall, updated the prologue, so stop by and reread if ya want! <3

hey guys, it's me, paul!!!

uhhh,, was workin on my other stories for a minute and now I'm back to focusing on Lost Hope again

Thais and I have been brainstorming some really awesome ideas for the future, and we've got some brand new characters and even some oldies from Legends!!

Anyways, I just wanted to make a little update to let yall know that no, this project isn't dead, it's literally all I've been working on for like a week straight now and I'm dying to type it all out for yall;;; there's just going to be a little bit more of a wait as we rework the plot line--there might even be some rewriting but who knows, only time will tell c:

So that's the end of this message, I love you guys and thanks to everyone who's read, bookmarked, left comments or kudos,,, I know we don't say it a ton but seeing that stuff means the world to us!!!! Thank you so much and have a nice night, day, afternoon~

love youuuuuu,

Paul (and thais in spirit<3)

 

(((if you have any questions you want answered directly then hmu @mother-cocoon or thais @wlwhansolo on tumblr!)))


	11. Chapter Two: Father, Son, and Spirit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another's journey begins...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so jsyallk, Im too lazy to replace every chapter because why do that
> 
> Right now-actual chapters:  
> Prologue: Memories of Aldera  
> Chapter One: Powerless  
> Chapter Two: Father, Son, and Spirit
> 
> All the other chapters that are currently up but unnamed are just the bones for newer chapters and can kinda be used for a general sense of direction. 
> 
> You'll find some of the stuff in this chapter is familiar, but a majority of it is new so hope yall enjoy<3 lemme know if there are any questions, comments, etc. 
> 
> Sorry Ive been taking so long lmao

Tatooine was, by far, one of the worst worlds to live on. From its ubiquitous sands, twin suns, and hostile natives to rampant criminal activity, the Outer Rim rock was an awful planet. But for Ben Kenobi, the arid world had been home for almost two decades.

Parting the drapes of his window, Ben looked out from his hut over the rugged steeps of rock to the pale sand in the distance. The Jundland Wastes jutted upwards as jagged red stone canyons stretching miles in every direction. From atop the rocks, Kenobi could gather his sense of direction and recall the locales of a familiar world. To the north of the Wastes lay the settlements of Mos Edna, Mos Espa, and Mos Taike. To the far east was the spaceport of Mos Eisley. To the south was the expanse of the Western Dune Sea. To the west was just more rock and high rise plateaus.

The dry russet earth of the Wastes provided a durable shelter for Kenobi against Tatooine’s deleterious winds, but the aging Jedi was not the only one benefitting from the cover.  Making use of techniques garnered from a lifetime of experience, Kenobi sharpened his senses and focused his sight on the area around him. His eyes surveyed the red and brown sediment until he spotted what he had been expecting to see: a pair of masked faces looking back at him. 

Stepping out from the hut and raising his hood over his head, Ben cupped his hands around his mouth and let out an inhuman roar. It was a technique amplified through the Force and designed to mimic the call of the legendary krayt dragon; the most feared of the tuskens’ predators. Upon hearing the sound, Ben could make out the tuskens’ response: a complex series of whoops and shouts. In seconds, the masked faces retreated back into the depths of the Wastes to their hidden camp.

The sand people usually kept their distance from Kenobi’s hut, but every now and again they would grow bold enough to try something. The older man had a reputation amongst the tuskens as a figure not to be disturbed; however, Ben had learned to be wary of the sand peoples’ patterned behavior. Once every two years, a tusken chieftain would be challenged and replaced by a stronger leader. This tradition led to new scouts that the Jedi needed to ward off lest they decided to attack.

But the most recent transfer of power had just ended--this was the first scouting party to approach in weeks--and Kenobi assumed it would be the last until the next year. After confirming they had fled entirely, Ben walked back inside and immediately collapsed.

Falling to his knees, Kenobi braced his hand against a nearby table. A cold shock coursed through his body--feelings of fear, confusion, loneliness--a chorus of millions crying out before… nothing. It was an emptiness Ben had felt but never on a scale like this. Almost like a voice, but one that could only be heard as an echo. The feeling had almost faded away entirely as he pulled himself to his feet, but a darkness lingered within.

_ Do you feel it, Obi Wan? _

“Yes, master,” the Jedi answered, lowering his hood and taking a seat on his cot. “The Force… I could hear it.”

_ Alderaan. _

Kenobi sighed and placed a hand on his white beard. “What happened to it?” 

_ The Empire has unleashed a powerful weapon upon the galaxy. One that can destroy whole planets in an instant. _

A grave expression wrinkled the Jedi’s face. He closed his eyes and reached out through the Force as far as he could. He didn’t have the premonition sense of past Jedi, but he still had to try… 

“The princess,” Ben asked, straining his mind, “what’s become of her?”

Flashes of emotions rushed back to the Jedi as he touched the distant edges of his mind’s reach. Loneliness, loss, anger, and hate… the princess was clouded by darkness.

_ She is in the hands of Darth Vader. _

The voice was calm despite the severity of the news it brought.

“Do the Emperor and Vader know of her heritage?”

_ I cannot say. But I do know that it is time, Obi Wan. _

Kenobi opened his eyes. His face somehow looked decades older than it was. In his 20 years of exile, he had come to terms with his failure as a master--as a teacher. He had failed the person he was closest to, leading them down a path far darker than any should walk. His teachings had created a monster who fell into the hands of the Sith, and brought the end of the Old Republic and the Jedi Order. He had failed his brother and his master, the closest people being a Jedi allowed him to call family.

“Master,” Obi Wan called. For all of his wisdom, Kenobi still held the guilt of Darth Vader close to his heart. “I will try, but… what if I fail again?”

Silence.

“What if I fail Luke just as much as Anakin?”

Nothing.

“What if I train the boy only to lose him to Sidious?”

Obi Wan waited for some sort of answer, a confirmation--wisdom, or advice, or a vision, or some sort of prophecy--but the voice was silent. Kenobi may have been a Jedi master, but he was only human. He was fallible, and he had proved it. The destruction of Alderaan proved it. The Jedi Purge proved it. Mustafar proved it.

“I will protect him, but I won’t teach him. Not again.”

Obi Wan rose from his seat, believing the commune with the voice to be over, but a strong gust of wind blew through the hut, ripping the drapes from the windows. Kenobi was pushed down again, and he covered his face with his hands against the storm manifesting in his home. The hut’s cabinets and sparse decorations flew in the air, colliding amidst the commotion. Obi Wan could hear his robes ruffling and closed his eyes as a pool of sand entered his home and spiraled.

As soon as the wind arrived, it settled, and he opened his eyes once more to find the visage of his old master before him. Qui-Gon Jinn, sculpted from a million grains of sand, stood in front of his old padawan. The red drapes of Kenobi’s window adorned his body, swirling from the aura the spirit emitted. Every detail of Qui-Gon’s face was just as Kenobi remembered from so long ago; such detail from sand should have been impossible, but not through the Force.

“Obi Wan,” Qui-Gon’s voice was sonorous and filled the entirety of the hut. “You must train Luke Skywalker just as you trained his father before him.”

The old jedi rose. Qui-Gon’s spirit reminded Obi Wan so much of the past. Waves of nostalgia washed over him, memories of times he never could’ve remembered. Kenobi had forgotten how comforting it was to be in Jinn’s presence

“Luke is to be a Jedi. He will help free the galaxy from the Sith and bring balance to the Force. He is the son of the Chosen One.”

“Master, you still believe Anakin is the Chosen One? After everything that’s happened? After the path he’s taken?”

Qui-Gon reached out with his hand and placed it atop Kenobi’s head. A burst of light flooded Obi Wan’s eyes, and as it dissipated, he could see his master in the flesh. He could see himself as a young padawan, his light brown braid over his shoulder. He looked up at his master who stood tall and proud, assured of his faith in himself and in the Force.

“Just because one has lost their way in the dark does not mean they are lost forever. Learn from your failures, do not let them dictate your destiny. Trust in the Force, Obi Wan. It will guide you both on your journey.”

“I will try, master.”

Another flash of light and Jinn was gone. The aura of serenity the Jedi’s spirit brought blew away with a gust of Tatooine’s winds. But even as Kenobi listened to the soft whistle of the sands, he could hear the whisper of one last bit of wisdom.

_ Do or do not, Obi Wan. There is no try. _

Just because he accepted his failure did not make the pain of it any easier. Still, he knew that he owed it to Qui-Gon and Anakin to try again. He had failed Skywalker long before Mustafar, losing him to the temptations of the dark side. But Luke… 

He would not fail Luke. 

Darth Sidious may have twisted Anakin’s heart, and Darth Vader may corrupt Leia’s, but they would not have Luke. Obi Wan vowed it to himself.

Determined and inspired, Kenobi gathered his belongings from what remained of his home. Slipping two lightsabers beneath his robes and placing twenty years of credits in his pockets, Obi Wan left his hut. Pulling his hood over his head, the hermit began the trek to Owen Lars’ moisture farm and the long journey to bring back the Jedi.

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Tatooine’s twin suns had just begun their descent over the horizon as Luke Skywalker’s airspeeder neared the Lars homestead. The blended red and lavender hue of nightfall indicated Luke was going to be late for supper, but the young man was already full on freedom. Strapped into the speeder with his helmet strapped on tighter, Luke pulled the throttle of the craft as far as it could go, racing across the dark yellow sands. 

The undercurrent scattered the ground beneath to the wind. Plumes of pulverized sediment formed an arching cloud behind the speeder. Luke could feel his heart roaring just like the overworked engine, pumping to get as close to its limit as possible. Another minute and he would reach max acceleration; Uncle Owen had warned him never to go even half as fast, but Uncle Owen never wanted anyone or anything to reach its full potential. And  _ this _ time he wasn’t around.

Luke’s gloved fingers clenched tightly around the steering wheel and he tasted the blood trickling off his chapped lips--a consequence of driving too fast for too long. His ears popped and the sands under the speeder began to whistle as the heat of the engine sparked inconvenient fires, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop.

He was so close to reaching that elusive limit, and yet, so far. 

With a violent boom, Luke felt the vehicle give out a defeated sputter as it choked on the fuel it had tried so hard to burn through. Dark black smoke mixed with the cloud of sand trailing after him, and the young farm boy conceded with a sigh of his own. It wasn’t the first time he’d push the speeder too far, but it was the first time he did it with Biggs on his mind.

Skywalker had known Biggs Darklighter for most of his life. The Darklighter homestead was only a short ride from the Lars’, so Luke and Biggs found an easy friendship on a not so easy world. Tatooine’s harsh climate, wildlife, and terrain made the rock near inhospitable, but the most rugged of people in the galaxy could survive on the planet. The dull and stolid learn to live and have families while the smart and wise know better than to be anywhere near the planet in the first place. Only four types of people were said to come from Tatooine: farmers, criminals, racers, and deadmen.

Luke and Biggs decided a long time ago they didn’t plan on being any of the above.

They promised one another that they’d find a way off Tatooine and out of the Outer Rim. Someplace with a lot more color, a lot more people, and a lot less sand. But luck would have it that only one of them would leave. While Biggs got to apply for the Imperial Academy and leave a life of moisture farming behind, Luke was left with the privilege of helping his uncle pull in one last season.

But Skywalker knew one last season would turn into one more last season, and another, and then another after that. Until too many seasons pass and Uncle Owen dies and Luke gets the even better privilege of inheriting the family moisture farm. Maybe he’d even get to adopt a son of his own and pass on the ever so fortunate family heirloom of meaninglessness and redundancy.

Still, Luke felt a sense of comfort as he made out the silhouette of his home across the horizon. The burrow’s familiar shadow grew larger, and he could see two much smaller shadows rise out of it towards him.  _ Ugh, Owen and Beru are gonna lose it this time,  _ he groaned.  _ All our credits went to these power converters--hopefully we have all the parts to fix the engine or-- _

Luke’s train of thought was cut off as he saw a third shadow step out of the burrow. It was rare to have a visitor, even rarer for them to stay so late. As Skywalker puzzled over who could’ve stopped by, the speeder stalled a few dozen meters away from the entrance. Luke unbuckled himself and hopped out of the vehicle, only reaching back in to grab the converters. Hefting the large cells over his shoulder, Luke turned to find his aunt, uncle, and someone strangely familiar waiting for him.

“Old Ben!” Luke exclaimed, recognizing the bearded man in his drab brown robe. “What are you doing here?”

Old Ben Kenobi was one of Tatooine’s many oddities: A hermit living in the heart of the Jundland Wastes. Luke had only seen him a few times before but he kind of liked the guy. Ben always had the best stories, ones that Biggs said only a veteran of the Clone Wars would know, but Uncle Owen always wrote the stories off as crazy talk. And Luke had to admit, only a crazy person would live by himself in Tusken territory.

“He was just leaving,” Owen answered gruffly.

“Isn’t it dangerous for him to be leaving so late?” As passionate as Luke was about freedom, he was equally oblivious to his uncle’s less than subtle opinions. “He should stay the night. There’s no telling what the sand people might do out there.”

Before Owen could shut down the possibility, Kenobi spoke up.

“You have a point, Luke. I think I’d feel much safer leaving at dawn, if you don’t mind, Owen--”

“Lars,” Owen barked angrily.

It seemed for a second Old Ben might still be forced away but Beru spoke up.

“Luke has a point, dear.” She placed a consoling hand on her husband’s shoulder. “It would be rude to make him travel back so late; we owe him more than that.”

“We don’t owe him a blasted thing, Berry!” Owen threw the hermit one of the meanest glares Luke had ever seen on his uncle’s face. He had no clue why Uncle Owen was acting like this, but he knew his uncle was in the wrong. It seemed like Owen picked up on that too. 

“ _ Dawn _ . No later,” Owen growled. “Beru’ll show you to a room.” 

Old Ben nodded his head and thanked Owen, but Luke could have sworn he saw the hermit give him a little smile as Beru escorted him down the steps. 

Luke moved to follow after though he stopped when Owen placed a burly hand against his chest. 

“Luke, I need you to listen to me.” Luke leaned in to hear his uncle’s words. He could smell the sweat of working the farm on him, it was its own brand of uninspired pungency.

“No matter what that man tells you in there you can’t trust him. Not for a goddamn second, you hear me?” Luke nodded. “You’re a farmer, son. Your father wanted you to be safe with us, and I’m not about to let some balding wizard spit in the face of your father’s wishes.”

Lars held his nephew there for a moment longer before letting out a sigh. “Go set down those converters, we’ll deal with ‘em in the morning... _ together _ .” With a quick pat on Luke’s back, Owen headed down the stairs, leaving Skywalker to wonder just what was going on.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It took Luke about ten minutes to heave the power converters down to the garage, but he gave himself a good twenty to catch his breath and let all his sweat dry up. While he dried off, Luke took a seat on the red R5 unit he and his uncle had bought a day or so ago. A restraining bolt kept it from moving and making noise, so Luke filled the silence himself. 

“What had all that been about up there, do you think?” Luke asked the nonresponsive droid, “I’m not as blind as a mynock, I can tell something’s happening.” He stood up and ran his hands through his blonde hair, shaking his head in frustration.

He let out a long groan. “And what had all that stuff been about my dad? Do you think Old Ben knows something about him?” He sat down cross-legged next to the droid, his hair ruffled and matted with sweat.

Resting his head against the red astromech, Luke cooled the left side of his face on the cold metal. “I saw Biggs earlier...Biggs Darklighter, do you know him?” 

No response.

“Yeah, well,” Luke answered himself. “You will soon. Wanna know why?” His voice turned to a whisper as he peaked around the room as if someone would be listening in, “He’s leaving the Academy to go to Bestine and join the  _ Rebellion _ .”

A huge grin crossed Luke’s face as he said the last word. “The Rebellion! It’s crazy, right?” Unable to stay still with his sudden surge of energy, Luke stood up, “I told him that it sounded crazy and that it’ll probably be a longshot if he ever comes across them, but I know he will…”

Luke’s voice grew soft. 

“If anyone can find the Rebels...it’s Biggs. He can do anything; he’s almost as good a pilot as me,” His smile dropped as he sat in front of the restrained astromech. Thinking about his childhood friend going off to fight in a war seemed bigger than anything Luke had ever imagined on Tatooine. His best friend gone amongst the stars Luke could only dream of getting to. The thought of Biggs getting shot at, or captured, or worse...

“I know you can’t hear me, but,” His voice was barely audible as he pressed his forehead against the droid and closed his eyes. “I’m gonna be right behind you, Darklighter. Don’t get yourself killed before I find you. Uncle Owen won’t keep me past this season, and when I get to the Academy...I’m going to catch up to you in no time, I prom--”

“Luke!” Aunt Beru’s call broke the farmboy’s train of thought, and he stood alert as if he had been caught trying to steal a scavenger’s ration portions, “Luke, come up for dinner!”

Realizing he hadn’t been overheard, Skywalker let out a long sigh of relief. Placing his hand on the droid’s circular head, he gazed at his reflection on the dusty metal. “I’ll get that bolt off, Red. Don’t worry, I won’t forget about you--that’s a promise.”

With that, Luke made his way up the steps, turning off the lights in the garage. In the quiet darkness of the repair station, R5-D4 let out a low whirr of gratitude before powering down.

\-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dinner was uncomfortably silent. Luke was the only one really looking up from his food, so he was the only one who could see the furtive glances being traded between his aunt and uncle. The back and forth seemed to play like an argument, and as Aunt Beru let out a long breath, Luke could tell his uncle had won. 

Aunt Beru rose, her plate almost completely untouched. “Let me clear the table.” She gathered her plate and Uncle Owen’s which was completely untouched. She made her way over to Luke’s, but her foot caught on one of the table’s legs. Beru let out a panicked yelp as she stumbled forward, the two plates of untouched food she had been carrying falling out of her hands and towards Luke.

Skywalker flinched and closed his eyes, bracing for the impact. 

It never came.

After a moment, Luke opened his eyes, his mouth opening wider, as he saw the plates and food floating only a few inches from his face. He let out a half-nervous-half-amazed laugh, and turned to make sure everyone else could see what was happening. It turns out they did, and Uncle Owen looked even more furious than before. 

“I said none of your magic in my house, Jedi!” Owen shouted, he stood up and slammed his hand on the table.

“Jedi?” Luke repeated dimly. He looked at Old Ben who had his hand outstretched towards the floating plates. With a wave of his hand, the plates moved through the air and sat on the table, their contents following suit, only a little worse for wear.

“I want you out of my home this instant!” Owen hollered, “You’re not taking Luke, so get it through that thick head of yours. You hear me?” 

Ben opened his eyes and stood, his voice calm, “Forgive me, Lars, but that decision is Luke’s.”

Owen took a step towards the old man, standing in his face.

“I said he ain’t going anywhere. I’m not gonna let you get  _ my _ nephew caught up in some crazy space war, so you’d best be making your way home--you’ll have about an hour before nightfall.”

Ben stood his ground, his expression not changing as his eyes went from Owen to Luke then back to Owen, “As you wish.”

The old hermit put his hood on as he moved past Lars towards the door.

“Wait!” He turned at the sound of Luke’s voice, “You’re a Jedi?”

The old man smiled, a small one, “I am.”

“Did you fight in the Clone Wars?” Luke asked. His eyes were bright with fascination.

“Luke--,” His uncle tried to growl, but Ben cut him off.

“I was a general in the war,” The old man said, lowering his hood again, “Just like your father.”

A gasp came from Beru as she covered her mouth. Owen gave the old Jedi a dark glare.

“But,” Luke was the only one who wasn’t silent, “My father wasn’t a Jedi….He was a navigator on a spice freighter…” He looked to his aunt and uncle, both of whom didn’t look him in the eye, “Right?”

“That’s right,” Owen snarled. “Your father was a navigator and he  _ died _ a navigator.”

“Your father,” Ben said plainly, seemingly ignoring the animosity in Lars’ voice, “was a Jedi Knight, Luke. One of the greatest, and my closest friend.”

“Is that true?” Luke asked incredulously. No one responded. “Is that true?” He demanded, standing up.

“Yes…” Beru choked out from behind her hand.

“Beru!” Owen snapped.

“No, Owen… He deserves to know,” She wasn’t going to give this time. Beru put a hand on Luke’s shoulder and he turned to face her. His eyes were full of disbelief.

“Luke...Your father  _ was _ a Jedi, but he died fighting in the war--a war just like the one going on now.  _ All  _ the Jedi died, because they were reckless. We tried to keep you from that life because only pain exists for people like that. Please, you have to believe us, Luke.”

Skywalker stepped back from her, looking back and forth between his aunt and uncle. “How could you both keep that from me?” Tears formed as the heat of his face and pain in his voice rose. “You’ve been lying to me about my life since… since the beginning. If it weren’t for Ben, you guys probably wouldn’t have even bothered telling me the truth, would you?”

Luke glared at his uncle, “And  _ you _ probably would have kept me here as a farm hand for the rest of my life. No academy or piloting for me, just,” He gestured around himself, “vaporators and sand. Is that what you wanted?” 

“We wanted to keep you safe, Luke,” Beru pleaded, “It was the only way, please--”

“Just stop!” Luke yelled. Everyone was looking at him. His breathing was heavy and his face was hot, “Stop  _ lying _ .”

He gripped the edge of the table tightly. Dusty knuckles were met with tears that revealed the white knuckles underneath. “I’m not just a farmer. I never was. You both knew how much I wanted to be something more, and now I know… you knew I could’ve been something more. I could still be--”

A hush fell over the room, as the young Skywalker caught his breath. He looked up, his gaze going directly for Ben. “My father,” Luke asked quietly, “If he was a Jedi, could I be one too?”

Owen and Beru both looked at one another as the old hermit spoke.

“You could be an even greater Jedi than your father, Luke,” Ben took a step back into the room, “but it is not a choice to be made out of anger or betrayal.” Skywalker’s eyes dropped slightly.

“Being a Jedi, Luke, is about compassion,” A warmth seemed to permeate the room as the white-haired hermit spoke, “It’s about forgiveness. The first steps will be hard, but you must face them if you ever hope to become a Jedi.”

Ben turned and walked up the steps leaving Skywalker with his aunt and uncle. For a while, no one spoke. The calm the Jedi’s words brought had faded and all that was left was the anger and tension.

Luke went first.

“I’m going to become a Jedi like my father,” He declared. Owen didn’t look at him. 

“Uncle, I...I think I understand why you’d lie to me, but I need to follow my own path. Staying on the farm my whole life? I can’t do that….All of my friends are gone,  _ Biggs _ is gone. Everyone’s growing up and making something of themselves and seeing the galaxy, and I--I just don’t want to be left behind.”

“Luke,” His uncle responded, his blue eyes finally meeting Luke’s, “Not this way.” He shook his head slightly, “I promise, the end of this season, I’ll take you to the Academy--you can sign up, you can be with your friends, just…” His voice cracked, “Don’t go like this. Not with him.”

They held one another in that moment for a long time, but after taking a shaky breath and wiping his eyes, Luke came to his decision.

“I’m sorry, Uncle. I love you,” He looked to his aunt, “Both of you. Thank you for everything. For taking care of me; raising me, keeping me safe, teaching me to pilot and cook and look out for myself. Thank you...but if I don’t go now,” His voice trailed off and he looked back to his uncle who was silently pleading with him, “I don’t think I ever will.”

Walking to the door, Luke placed a hand on the frame and turned back to his family.

“I’ll come back,” He managed. “I promise.”

With that, Luke Skywalker took one last look at everything he knew in the galaxy--at the burrow he called home. Pain quickly took a backseat to the future that was now ahead of him. Stepping outside and catching a glimpse of the violet skies and their twin suns setting just beyond the horizon, Luke made one last promise.

_ I’m coming, Darklighter. _


End file.
